Debra Webb - Depraved (Faces of Evil Book 10) Page 3

  “Amanda led me here.”

  Jess wanted to shake him. “Dammit, Buddy. You said you had nothing to do with her escape.”

  Buddy held up his hands surrender style. “I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Then tell me how this happened.”

  “When I went to see her, she gave me nothing, like I told you. Just more of that ridiculous talk about Spears and questions about you. I figured she was either curious about you or digging for tidbits to give Spears.”

  Jess folded her arms over her chest. “And?”

  “Before I left, she asked me to lean closer. I did and she kissed me—”

  “Buddy,” Jess cautioned, “get on with it.”

  “She whispered one percent in my ear. I didn’t know what to make of it at first. After I chewed on it awhile, I decided it could be a license plate. I had a friend at the DMV look up variations of the phrase and the only one he came up with in the Birmingham area was 1PERCNT. The owner of that license plate lives across the street. I figure Amanda saw it when she was here.”

  Jess couldn’t speak for a moment. Amanda had provided the only clue to Spears’s whereabouts. As hard as she tried, Jess failed to conquer the shaking that started deep inside her. Amanda Brownfield had been a diagnosed psychopath. She had stolen the idyllic childhood Jess remembered in one fell swoop with claims that Jess’s father was also her father. DNA had substantiated her claim. She and her ancestors had murdered dozens of people and buried them on their Jackson County farm. Yet, before facing death, Amanda had unearthed a kernel of goodness from somewhere deep inside her.

  On the other hand, the lead Amanda gave Buddy could have been part of the plan all along, but Jess didn’t think so. Eric Spears never left survivors. Lori Wells had survived an up-close encounter with Spears and his protégé Matthew Reed. In that instance, Reed had been the one to fail to end her life—not Spears. Amanda had met Spears and lived to tell about it, but only because Spears had one last task for her before he murdered her. With all that made her a cop, Jess believed finding these three women alive was not part of Spears’s carefully laid plans.

  “You staked out the place,” Jess suggested when both men appeared to be waiting for her to speak next.

  Buddy nodded. “Watched it night and day. A limo came and went this morning. The driver pulled into the garage but didn’t close the door. That’s when I got a visual on Spears. I saw him get out of the limo and go into the house through a side door in the garage.”

  “You never left your surveillance post once you spotted him?” The urge to tear this house apart was clawing at Jess. Spears could still be hiding in here somewhere.

  “Not for a second.”

  “Then how did he get away?”

  “I can’t be certain he didn’t slip out the back door before Dan and your crew got here, but once we surrounded the house, no one came out.” Buddy hitched his head toward Dan. “All I know is he was gone when we got inside.”

  “Unless he was tipped off before we arrived and I don’t see how that’s possible since no one knew we were coming except you,” Dan argued. “There has to be another way out. We just haven’t found it yet.”

  Jess turned back to the fireplace and the unnerving painting above it. Where the hell are you, Spears? “I guess this painting didn’t have as much sentimental value as he wanted us to believe considering he left it behind, too.”

  She desperately wished he had taken it and left the fourth victim. Then again, he had been in a hurry. Her cell chimed with an incoming text message. Jess dug around in her bag until she found it. Hopefully there was good news about Cook or Nina, maybe both.

  Tormenter.

  Her heart stumbled. “It’s him.” She swiped the screen to download the message.

  It’s only a painting, Jess. I’ll have the real thing soon.

  She spun around, surveying the room from floor to ceiling. “He’s watching us or listening somehow.”

  Dan took the phone from her and read the message. “Son of a bitch.”

  They spread out, examining every inch of the room for monitoring devices. Silence thickened as their search grew more frantic and frustrating. Jess was just about to suggest they call Dan’s friend who’d located the monitoring devices planted in his former home when shouting reverberated in the entry hall.

  “Oh hell,” Buddy grumbled.

  “Where is Chief Harris?”

  Jess clenched her teeth to hold back the answer she would have liked to give Acting Chief of Police Harold Black as he stormed into the parlor. His furious glare landed on her first.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded. “I received a message from my secretary with this outlandish story. When I arrive, I see two of Spears’s hostages being loaded into ambulances under the supervision of one of your detectives. What is this, Harris?” He surveyed the room, his attention falling at last on the portrait over the fireplace. His anger gave way to surprise. “God help us.”

  “Eric Spears has been residing in the house for several weeks now and no one noticed,” Jess informed him. “He left behind three of his hostages—alive. I think maybe God already did his part. Now we’re trying to do ours, that’s what’s going on here.”

  The fury glittered to life once more in Black’s dark eyes. “I demand a full accounting of what has taken place here this morning!”

  “This was my call, Harold,” Dan announced.

  Jess bit back a groan.

  Black shifted his attention to Dan. “I see.” He drew in a big breath, puffing out his chest. “I mean no disrespect, Dan, but I would urge you to stand down. You have no law enforcement authority at this time and any measures you have taken are a personal liability as well as a legal problem for this department.”

  Dan held up a hand. “Detectives Wells and Harper were the first on the scene. Every step taken here has been by the book, Harold.”

  “Attorneys representing Spears will have a field day with this,” Black contended. “Where is the warrant? What is Corlew doing in here?” Black gestured to Buddy. “What were you thinking, Dan?”

  Outrage lashed through Jess. “I, for one, suggest we get on with the business of finding a serial killer.”

  Black glared at her again. “You and I will discuss this in my office.”

  Jess glared right back at him. “The bottom line is Buddy Corlew discovered Spears’s hiding place when no one else had. After a visual confirmation that Spears was in the house, he called my detectives to the scene. Considering God and everyone else knew Spears had hostages, exigent circumstances precluded the need for a warrant. And since time was unquestionably of the essence, Mr. Corlew provided what assistance he could as a private citizen. Any other questions, Chief?”

  When Black couldn’t seem to decide what to say to her tirade, Jess turned to Dan. “I’ll see you later.” Uninterested in wasting more time, she stepped around the acting chief of police and headed for the door.

  “We are far from finished talking about this, Chief Harris,” Black tossed at her back. “I will see you in my office.”

  Jess kept walking. “I’ll check my calendar.”

  “Buddy Corlew,” Black announced, “you’ll be coming with me for questioning in the investigation of Amanda Brownfield’s murder.”

  Jess hesitated at the door and sent Buddy a look she hoped relayed how sorry she was for all this. Black knew damn well Buddy hadn’t killed Amanda. This was nothing more than an opportunity for him to show he was the boss. For now.

  Her old friend gave her a lopsided grin before turning to Black and saying, “Always happy to oblige the BPD.”

  Dan caught up with Jess on the front steps. “Are you headed to the hospital?”

  “I am. I want to check on Cook and follow up with the victims.” What she would really love to do first was slap some sense into Harold Black. Thankfully, reason had overruled any such foolish act.

  “Hayes and Harper are both needed here. I’ll take you.”


  Jess stalled on the bottom step. Dan was damned worried about her and he already had more than his share of trouble weighing on those broad shoulders. Nina Baron had gone missing. Though she and Dan had been divorced for more than a decade, he still cared about Nina and her family. On top of that, his first wife, Meredith Dority, had been murdered just two days ago. He’d been placed on administrative leave from his position as chief of police after Meredith’s murder. Between his visit with Meredith just before she died and evidence related to Captain Ted Allen’s disappearance turning up on his property, Dan was considered a person of interest in both cases. All that didn’t even take into consideration that his home had burned to the ground a mere two weeks ago.

  How could he possibly have room left to worry about her? Yet, somehow he did. He loved her. He loved the child she carried, their child.

  Rather than argue with him about whether he was hovering and showing his overprotective side again, she smiled. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

  Whatever else went wrong, holding tight to Dan was the right thing to do.

  3

  UAB Hospital, 4:55 p.m.

  “He drugged me.” Officer Chad Cook licked his dry lips before he continued. “I opened the door and he jammed the needle into my shoulder.”

  Jess could only imagine what went through Cook’s mind at that moment. Unlike most of Spears’s victims, he would have been well aware of how the encounter would likely end. He was alive and that was a flat out miracle. The surgeon had saved his leg, but Cook would be out of commission for some time. He would be in ICU for the next seven days and, barring any unforeseen issues, released a week or so later. There would be extensive physical therapy, and though the prognosis was optimistic, the final results were unclear at this time.

  “Ketamine,” Jess confirmed. “It works quickly. A high enough dosage can put down an elephant.”

  Cook laughed a dry, rusty sound. His throat was raw from the hours of intubation. With all the tubes and wires and the open incision required for healing after the extended period of compromised blood flow, he looked a mess and it broke Jess’s heart.

  “Spears’s drug of choice,” he said, his voice gravelly.

  Lori smiled down at him. “Definitely not mine.”

  One corner of Cook’s mouth curled. “Mine either.”

  Lori had been drugged with Ketamine part of the time she was held by Matthew Reed. She had suffered and seen things no cop wanted to experience. She and Cook were now part of a very small club—the Player’s Survivors Club.

  When his doorbell rang Cook had thought it was Sylvia. His cheeks had flushed with embarrassment as he’d explained that Dr. Baron sometimes stopped by his place before going to work in the mornings. He always ushered the dogs into his guest bedroom since Sylvia wasn’t a big fan. Lucky for the dogs. Had they not been shut up in the extra bedroom they would, in all probability, have ended up casualties. The two loyal animals had almost clawed and chewed their way through the door by the time Sylvia arrived. The idea of having a dog around the house was growing on Jess.

  “You got a good look at the man who attacked you,” Jess said, easing the conversation back to where Cook left off.

  “It was that guy who’s been following you around. I recognized him immediately from your description. He was tall with dark hair.” Cook coughed hard. When he’d caught his breath, he cleared his throat. “He wore Wayfarer sunglasses. Cost at least two hundred bucks.” He coughed again.

  The dark-haired man had been following Jess off and on for a month, more off than on lately.

  “You need water.” Lori filled the plastic cup from his bedside table, added a bendable straw, and held it to his lips. “Take it slow.”

  He swallowed several small sips. “Thanks. That’s better.” He looked to Jess and resumed his story. “I didn’t lose consciousness at first, just kind of felt loopy and too weak to get up.”

  “Did he say anything that you recall? Did he use his cell phone?”

  “He kept talking about how—excuse me, Chief—he got off on following you around. He said Amanda Brownfield was a practice run for what Spears wanted to do to you. He bragged about how he hoped he got to watch.”

  Jess banished the images of Amanda’s battered and abused body. “At any time did you overhear the dark-haired man speaking to anyone else? Maybe when he thought you were unconscious?”

  Cook frowned, and then flinched. Jess hated to push him like this. He’d only been out of recovery for forty-five minutes. He was still a little groggy and likely experiencing some degree of pain.

  “Somebody—a male—said something like: No more mistakes, North. I can’t say for sure if it was him or someone else. I was pretty much out of it after he dosed me up with that second hit of ketamine.” He coughed and Lori offered him another drink, but he declined. “I might’ve dreamed it. I don’t know for sure. That’s the only other thing I remember until he was telling me I’d better stay awake if I wanted to live. Then he left.”

  “North.” Jess mulled over the name. “This could be an important break. Good job, Cook.”

  Another of those fleeting smiles tugged at his lips. “Thanks, Chief. I tried real hard to stay awake so I could tell you to watch out for him.”

  More of that exasperating emotion she’d been dealing with all morning swelled in her chest. “We should go so you can rest. There will be two guards outside your room at all times.”

  “We’ve got you covered.” Lori gave his hand a squeeze. “Chet’s taking your dogs over to your mom’s house so no worries, okay?”

  Cook managed a faint nod. “No worries.”

  In the corridor, Jess reminded the officers on duty to notify her immediately if there was any change in Officer Cook’s condition. Since Cook had still been in recovery when they first arrived, she and Lori had checked on Stinnett, Atmore, and Knowles. All were doing as well as could be expected and their families were on the way. Jess wished one of the women would break her silence about Spears. They were alive and that was what mattered. Still, any kind of lead could turn the tide on the investigation. Maybe tomorrow she would push one or all three a little harder.

  Her cell phone vibrated, rattling against a Coke can she’d shoved into her bag between patient visits. She’d silenced the nuisance before beginning the interviews. She fished it out and checked the screen. Gant.

  “I was just thinking about you,” Jess said in lieu of hello. “Officer Cook says the man who left him for dead mentioned a name. North. Does that ring a bell?” Both she and Gant had worked on the Player case for years.

  “I’ll have the name run through the databases,” Gant said. “I’m in Birmingham. Chief Black picked me up at the airfield. I’ll see you at Eighteenth Street in half an hour.”

  Jess wasn’t surprised that Gant was here already. Not only was this the first time any of Spears’s victims had been found alive, this was the first time they’d had even a clue where he’d kept the victims of one of his games. Two other women who’d been held with Rory Stinnett initially had been released alive, but followers of Spears had actually abducted those two as a sort of game preview.

  Typically, the victims would disappear one per week until his annual killing spree was over. The bodies were always discovered at different locations and times with no evidence of where they had been prior to discovery. Locating the house Spears had used was, in fact, a huge break in the case. Just not the one they needed to find him, apparently.

  “I’ll be there.” Jess ended the call and set her phone back to ring, then tossed it into her bag. “I guess there’s a conference.”

  “Maybe they found something at the house that we missed this morning.” Lori pressed the call button for the elevator.

  “We can hope.” Spears never made mistakes and he always had a fall back plan. He’d likely had a car stashed in the neighborhood for a hasty getaway. Yet, to take a hostage and run was not characteristic behavior. Spears had taken a huge risk.

  �
��I sent Harper the name Cook remembered,” Lori mentioned, “and asked him to see if he could find anything in our local databases.”

  “Good thinking.” Jess could always count on her team to take the initiative. She hoped Cook would be able to come back to work when he had recovered. She didn’t want to lose him.

  Damn you, Spears.

  Federal Bureau of Investigation Field Office

  18th Street, 5:40 p.m.

  Harold Black droned on about what they hadn’t found in the house on Argyle Drive. Jess held back her sighs, resisted the tapping of her toes, and strove for patience. She would very much like to get to the part about what they had discovered, which she anticipated would be nothing of significance.

  Black finally sat down, confirming Jess’s conclusion, and all eyes moved to the end of the conference table where Gant was seated. He glanced at his notes and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “For as long as it takes, a team of agents and detectives will continue work in the house in hopes of finding any overlooked piece of evidence as well as the route Spears used to escape.”

  “Assuming,” Black cut in, “he was actually on the premises at the time of the rogue invasion by Chief Harris’s team.”

  “We had exigent circumstances, Chief Black,” Jess said with a feigned smile. “Looks like the decision was the right one since three victims were recovered from the scene. Alive, I might add.”

  “Three victims who haven’t identified Spears as their abductor,” he countered.

  Gant held up a hand when Jess would have fired back. “As for the text message Spears sent Chief Harris, the entire house and property are monitored by cameras, easily accessed from any Wi-Fi device. Spears could have been watching from anywhere.”

  “Are you corroborating he was not in the house this morning?” Black did not intend to let it go.

  “Actually,” the woman seated to Gant’s left spoke up, “we believe he was not only in the house, but that he was alerted via his state-of-the-art surveillance system that he had been found.”