Page 40 of Good Girls Don't Cry

“Copy that.” Carter grinned around his toothpick. “We’ll be home in time for dinner.”

As the team headed out of the door, boots clattering on the tile, Jenna went back to her office and leaned both hands on her desk. Her heart pounded and her stomach twisted as the problems and dangers of dealing with a complete unknown rushed through her mind. They’d dealt with many vicious murderers in their time, but they’d always had an idea of their limitations based on their crimes. This one was different, an unknown quantity, a multiskilled killer looking for his next thrill. She stared up at the ceiling. “Keep them safe.”

Forty-Five

Olivia pressed against the wall as footsteps came along the passageway. The flashlight bobbed up and down and soon her captor came into view. He ignored her and went to the desk. Under one arm, he carried a laptop and spent a few minutes setting it up and attaching cables. She couldn’t make out what he was watching but then recognized the logo for the local news channel. The picture-in-picture second screen showed what must be outside, so a CCTV he’d set up maybe. Olivia stood on tiptoes to see what was happening.

The man sat stroking a long lock of hair. The screen flickered, making his masked features look grotesque in the dim light. Who did the hair belong to? A shudder went through Olivia and her mouth went dry. Was that Chloe’s hair? She couldn’t see what was on the news but whatever it was it made the man groan and sniff the hair. The sight of him was almost pathetic, but then something caught his attention and he stood abruptly, sending his chair tumbling backward.

“What is a lineman’s truck doing here?” He picked up his chair and sat down at the desk. His fingers flew over the keyboard. “There is no scheduled maintenance in this area and the power is working just fine.” He stood, grasped the hair, and twisted it in his fingers. “This is a setup.” He paced around the small area, staring at his feet. “This isn’t in the book. It says they came by chopper. I need time to get away.” He dug a finger into the screen. “This wasn’t the plan. Now I’m going to make life difficult for you.” He tossed the hair on the desk.

Heart pounding, Olivia fixed her attention on him. What was he going to do? Who was coming? She strained her eyes to see the small screen, but could only make out a waving field of wheatgrass. A loud scraping sound came from close by and the man pushed a trunk into the middle of the passageway. When he flipped it open, Olivia caught her breath. A ton of wires and what she believed to be metal pipes. The man took a device out and she could see his smile through the open mouth of the balaclava. He suddenly turned and looked at her as if suddenly remembering he had company.

“See this, Olivia?” He waved the device around, its wires trembling. “This is a surprise for the cops who think they’re going to sneak up on me.”

Swallowing her fear, she turned her gaze on him. “What are you going to do to them?”

“Blow them sky high.” He chuckled. “Then we can leave. There’s more than one way out of this mine. Some old-timer told me to follow the old railroad tracks and we’ll come out some ways along the hillside. While they’re inside looking for us, we’ll be long gone.” He waved the explosive device at her. “That’s if any of them are alive.”

When he dived into the trunk, grabbed something, and headed toward her cell, Olivia shrank back against the back wall, terrified at having him so close, crowding her. Would he try and kill her?

“Stand very still.” His dark eyes stared right through to her soul. “You’re my ticket out of here.” He touched the knife in his belt. “I will kill you or cut you up and leave you to bleed to death slowly if you don’t do as I say.”

Horrified, Olivia sucked in a deep breath, tasting his sweat on her tongue. He moved closer and pushed her arms into a vest with wire running through it. Was he planning on electrocuting her? She gasped for air as he tightened the straps. “What is this for?”

“One scream or warning and you’ll find out.” He smiled at her. “Be good and I’ll make you famous.” He walked out of the cell, slamming the door behind him, and stared at the computer screen. “Showtime!”

Forty-Six

The sun had dropped in the sky, leaving a line of shadows along the perimeter of the hillside. Kane kept close to the rocky outcrop until they came to a deep fissure that would conceal the team from view. He tapped his com. “What do you see, Rio?”

“There’s a white van concealed beneath a large camouflage tarpaulin outside the mine entrance. The metal gate appears to be intact.” Rio paused for a beat. “I’m seeing what could be a CCTV camera above the entrance to the mineshaft. I wouldn’t have noticed it, but it must have a sweeping motion because the lens caught the light just before.”

Beside Kane, Carter was miming shooting a rifle. He nodded. “You sure you’re not seeing the scope on a rifle?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. There’s no place to conceal a shooter above the front of the mine. All I see is straight rock with hardly any cover.” Rio grunted and his breath caught. “These darn lines are live. I can’t appear to be working on them. If I touch the wrong thing, I’ll be toast… literally.”

Kane moved his attention to Rio’s position. “Change of plan. Climb down and head back to where we left the vehicles. We’ll need you back here pronto with a transport vehicle when we catch this guy.”

“Copy that.”

Waving the team forward, Kane edged through the shadows toward the mine entrance. He scanned the area where Rio had spotted the camera and noted that it was set high and well above the entrance. He tapped his mic. “The CCTV camera is covering the road. I don’t figure it covers the entrance, so as long as we keep down, we should be able to get in without him seeing us.”

Duck-walking to the mine entrance Kane ran his fingers over the chain hanging free on one side of the large metal gate. On one end hung an open shiny new padlock. In the dirt at his feet sat a rusty discarded lock. He kicked it with his toe, noting the cut where a bolt cutter had sheared it from the chain. He eased the gate open slowly hoping it wouldn’t creak, and waved Carter and Zorro inside. Having an explosives sniffer dog and a bomb disposal expert with him was an advantage, especially when hunting down a perpetrator known to use explosives. He switched on his bodycam to record the takedown and ducked in behind Carter with Raven close on his heels.

Kane had been in many unusual situations during his time in the military, and small claustrophobic spaces didn’t worry him—although he’d admit pitch-black root cellars gave him the creeps. Both members of his team were ex-military and would have endured the same type of training as he had. He trusted they wouldn’t freak out in the oppressively dark environment. Unable to use flashlights, Kane moved along behind Carter, feeling his way in the dim light with one hand on the damp moss-covered walls. Stale air around them coated his tongue and tasted like the inside of a mausoleum, as if a thousand corpses had been buried close by.

As they moved deeper inside the tunnel, the outside light slowly vanished. Once they turned a corner, the way ahead would be pitch black and each step would be into unknown danger. Ahead, Carter held Zorro’s leash, trusting his canine friend to keep him safe. It never ceased to amaze him how Carter worked with Zorro. The dog understood the need to be silent and communicated with Carter using body language. When he stopped abruptly, Carter turned and pressed a hand on Kane’s chest. Something was directly in front of them.

Kane recalled the layout of the mine, many passages branched off from the main one, but they needed to turn a corner before anyone would see them. They could risk a penlight without being detected. He took one from his pocket and played the beam across the floor. A fine wire glistened in the light. Moving closer he followed the tripwire to an explosive device. The idiot had set a device that could bring down the roof. Heart pounding, he held the flashlight steady as Carter went to work. Although he’d seen Carter work previously, and trusted him, it didn’t stop the trickle of nervous sweat running down between his shoulder blades. Beside him, a ripple went through Zorro. The dog understood explosions and he’d never seen him back away from some of the most dangerous devices. Behind him, he could hear Raven breathing hard. As Carter worked, he could have cut the tension inside the tunnel with a knife.

The threat neutralized, they moved forward. Small rocks dislodged as they continued downward, each tiny pebble sounding loud in the silence. Ahead, the tunnel broke into many dark endless maws, and Kane counted six possible places for the killer to be hiding. He recalled the layout of the main area. The last time he’d been down here, an underground office and storage area lay directly ahead. They had assumed if Olivia was here, her kidnapper would be holding her in one of the cells. As they moved forward, Carter suddenly flattened himself against the wall, one arm flaying behind him to stop Kane. Kane pressed his com. Even in the caves the coms would work, and with Carter, no language was necessary. He tapped a message to him and received the reply:

“Don’t move. Someone’s in the passageway on the left.”

Without hesitation, Kane pulled his weapon, stepped past Carter, and keeping his back to the wall, aimed his penlight into the darkness. The sight chilled him to the core. He waved the others forward and moved the penlight beam slowly across a macabre scarecrow dressed in a tattered sheriff’s uniform. Obviously female, the head, made from a roughly sewn burlap sack, had large haunting eyes and an open mouth drawn with bright red lipstick. The outstretched arms were attached to a crossbeam and the legs hung to the floor. Kane’s attention moved to the necklace, made from a piece of yellow twine with a dozen locks of hair attached. Bile curled his gut at the sight of the killer’s trophies, proudly displayed. An involuntary shudder went through him as he moved the light lower. A long kitchen knife protruded from the swollen belly. Now this had gotten personal.

He indicated for Carter to move forward. The passageway widened, and ahead, he made out a small flickering light. The next second, voices came from every direction, women’s voices, pleading, crying, and begging. Kane tapped his com. “He’s playing the recordings of the murders, the sick freak. He’s trying to psych us out. Fat chance of that. Spread out. Carter, take the left; I’ll take the right. Raven, this is going to get nasty. Hang back and watch our backs. We’re going in.”

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