“My parents are dead.”
The man gazed at her with an intense focus. She couldn’t recall ever being subjected to such severe scrutiny before. What was he looking for?
“I’m sorry to hear that, miss. Is your aunt your legal guardian?”
Rachel hesitated barely a second. “Yes, she is.”
“And does she know you’re out at this time of night?”
“Ye-es. It was… unavoidable. There was a mix-up at school and-”
The man’s eyes twinkled. “I think you’re lying to me, miss.”
“How would you know?”
“Come with me.”
She shrugged his hand away. “I’m not going anywhere except on a bus.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist. Consider yourself under arrest.”
“You can’t arrest me.”
“I can. Suspicion of delinquency.”
“Let me see your badge.”
“If you know what’s good for you-”
“I know not to get in a car with some weirdo just because he claims to be a cop.”
The man reached into his wallet and flashed something quickly. “Okay? Now, if you’ll just come along…”
She grabbed the wallet and reopened it. “This isn’t a LVPD badge.” She read the small print. “You’re just a private security cop. You can’t arrest me.”
His face seemed to transform, harden. His voice acquired an accent. “Don’t be difficult, Rachel, my dear. It’s for your own good.”
She took a step back. “How do you know my name?” Her eyes widened. “You’re him. You’re the guy. The one who grabbed Susan.”
“It would have been so much easier if you’d simply come when I asked.” He seized her arm, his grip so tight it hurt. She twisted back and forth, trying to break free.
“Give up,” he said, smiling. “You can’t get away.”
“Wanna bet, asshole?” She kicked him hard on the kneecap. He buckled. The next kick went into his groin. He released her arm.
Rachel turned to run, but before she could get away he wrapped an arm around her throat, pinching her trachea, yanking her down to the sidewalk. Rachel coughed and sputtered helplessly; she felt the air draining out of her lungs.
Still pinning her to the wet pavement with his left hand, he began fumbling for something in his jacket pocket with his right. Rachel saw her chance-probably her last one-and took it. She brought both fists around and pounded the arm that choked her, knocking it away. Before he could react, she slapped him on both sides of the head, right over his ears.
He screamed. His face contorted with pain and, even more, astonishment.
“You hurt me,” he murmured.
“About time someone did.” Rachel fled. Without looking back, she tore across the street and dove between two houses. Now she wouldn’t mind so much bumping into a cop, but what were the chances? She raced down the slick pavement, slipping and sliding, gliding down alleyways, creating shortcuts between houses and crisscrossing through residential streets. At least she knew the neighborhood. She had that advantage. Her sneakers slipped on a wet patch and she went flying feetfirst into a chain-link fence. She was dazed and her face was scratched, but she knew she couldn’t indulge herself in rest.
She checked over her shoulder, down the alleyway. Was he still there? She didn’t see him, but somewhere in the darkness, she thought she heard the footfalls of someone, someone running. She couldn’t keep this up. She’d never make it back to the Shepherds’ house on foot. She needed help.
She raced out into the street. Surely someone would come, even this time of night, anyone, it didn’t matter, just so she could get out of here before that guy caught up to her. Please!
In the distance, she saw the gleam of a pair of headlights. She shouted and waved, but it did not slow. What had Susan taught her? If you’re not sure someone will cooperate, don’t give them an alternative. She ran out in the center of the road, waving her arms wildly, forcing the oncoming vehicle to stop.
When it did, she ran to the passenger side. “I need a lift. Please! Someone’s chasing me. I think it’s that guy, the Poe freak.”
The young girl poised behind the wheel was about Rachel’s age. She seemed confused initially, but after a moment she said, “Get in.”
Rachel did. The second she closed the door, the truck peeled out. Rachel whipped around, peering out the back window, searching for a trace of the man who had been chasing her. Nice try, you sick pervert, she thought to herself. But you can’t have me.
“Where do you want to go?” the driver asked.
“Back to my-no, just take me to a gas station or something. Anything public that has a phone.”
“I think there’s one on the corner of Maple.”
“Great.” Rachel tried to relax. “I really appreciate this. You’ve saved my life, and I’m not exaggerating.”
“Glad I could help.”
“You and me both.” Rachel crumbled against the back of the cab. She was still breathing hard; her pulse was racing. But she was safe. “By the way, my name is Rachel.”
“I’m Tiffany.” All at once, the truck ground to a halt.
“Wait a minute. What are you doing?”
The girl did not respond. Her face was like a mask, expressionless. Her eyes were wide and hazy.
The passenger side door opened. Rachel screamed.
“We meet again.” It was him, the security guard. The killer. He was leaning into the cab. He held a hypodermic needle in his left hand.
“Help!’ Rachel tried to crawl out the other way, but the woman driving would not budge.
“You’ve done a good job, Tiffany,” the man said as he crawled after his prey. “You will be rewarded.”
“Leave me alone!” Rachel tried desperately to escape, but there was nowhere for her to go. She kicked and clawed at him, without avail. Behind her, the girl called Tiffany grabbed her arms and held her in place.
“So much spirit. Just like your aunt. And my Ginny. You are the perfect Vessel.”
Rachel tried to resist, but she was helpless, powerless, and even as she thought about somehow trying to get away, the needle jabbed her in the throat.
“Your devotion to your aunt is admirable. I was quite certain that phone call would bring you out.”
The instant the needle left her neck, Rachel felt her strength fading, the lights dimming.
“S-Susan…” she said as her eyelids fluttered closed.
“Susan can’t help you now, my sweet. You will not see her again.” He put the syringe back in his pocket, zipped it up, and gently slid his arms under her still, limp body. “But the happy thing is, after you’ve been with me for a while, you won’t want to.”
Two squad cars were already parked out front by the time Granger and I made the scene. Two uniforms were at the front door. I whipped the car around, tires squealing, parked in the middle of the street, and raced across the lawn.
They didn’t answer the doorbell, just as they hadn’t been answering the phone. I looked up and saw a window open. The window in what I knew was Rachel’s room.
I kicked the damn door open.
We raced inside, guns raised. Circling in formation, we flooded the downstairs, the living room, the kitchen. No signs of life, good or bad.
We found the Shepherds huddled upstairs in their bed. They’d thought it best not to open the door this time of night. They’d tried calling the police but couldn’t get a dial tone.
“Damn,” Granger said under his breath. “He must’ve cut the phone line.”
I bolted into Rachel’s room.
The breeze coming through the open window put a chill in the air. The lace drapes fluttered up and down. The room was silent.
She was gone. He had her.
33
Rachel woke screaming.
She was naked and strapped to a wooden chair in the middle of what looked like a basement. She couldn’t get free; she couldn’t move. She was barely able to squirm.
Only a few seconds later, he entered the room carrying a large oaken bucket.
“Where am I now?” she shouted. He’d repeated this pattern over and over again, ever since he abducted her, taking her to some new location, bringing her around for a few minutes, then drugging her again. She’d lost all sense of time and place.