Page 44 of Devil
Tamping down his annoyance, Darius followed the trail for another several hundred feet. He hadn’t heard any cars or motorized vehicles, but it was possible his target had fled the area some other way. He wasn’t going to give up that easily, though. Pausing briefly, he texted Lily his plan and turned on his location-sharing app for her, then continued deeper into the woods.
He tracked and backtracked the trail left for him for several more minutes. All the while fighting the irritation welling inside him. How had he lost the person? Disappearing into a forest without making a sound wasn’t a skill most people had.
Pausing, he tipped his head back, his gaze skimming the trees and the canopy. If it hadn’t been for the evidence of a trail through the woods, Darius might have considered that his prey had gone up among the branches. Exhaling slowly, he pushed on.
Less than ten minutes later, he stood at the edge of the woods near a small parking area. Across the country road appeared to be a local park with a large pond. In the distance, he could see a man walking a dog and two women sitting on a blanket with sketchpads.
There were four cars in the small lot, one Subaru, two trucks, and one Honda. One of them could be the intruder’s, and while running the license plates might not get them anywhere, he had to start somewhere.
Keeping to the woods, he circled around in front of the cars and began taking photos of the plates. Not wanting to be seen, he worked quickly, and soon he was on the last one, a newer Honda SUV. Raising his phone as he moved into position, his toe caught on a root buried beneath the fall leaves, and he stumbled.
He lurched forward to catch his balance, and pain exploded at the back of his head. His whole body hit the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. The scent of musky earth and decaying leaves tickled his nose as he tried to catch his breath. And then he drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Devil paced the bedroom,turning over the problem of the locked door. If she thought she could save Jennifer from whatever was plaguing her—and Devil had a pretty good idea what it was—then she’d kick the door in. The problem was, she was 99 percent sure Dr. Jennifer Pritchard was beyond help. And if that was the case, leaving evidence of her and Darius’s presence wasn’t the greatest idea.
She glanced at her watch. Darius had been gone for twenty minutes. She’d heard the window opening and seen a flash of someone dropping out, followed by Darius doing the same. She hadn’t heard from him since his last text, though. His location had him about a half-mile from the house, but he hadn’t moved in several minutes.
Should she go after him or stay with Dr. Pritchard?
Concern and anxiety warred inside her, making her question her decisions. This was another reason she preferred to work alone. When on her own, she didn’t have competing priorities. She’d never had to ask herself a question like she’d just asked—Darius or Pritchard?
Taking a deep breath, she willed her body to relax and tapped into her years of experience. She needed to trust Darius to do the job he’d taken on himself. With that grounding thought, she returned to the bathroom door and called Jennifer’s name again. The woman had mumbled a few words, but Devil had only been able to make out two—liarandsandy—and even then, she wasn’t certain that was what Jennifer had meant. She was clearly slipping into delusions as the virus feasted on her body.
A raspy, halting breath came from the other side of the door as Devil waited to hear if Jennifer would respond. If the virus acted like the smallpox virus, then it was attacking Jennifer’s lungs, and that was likely what she’d die from. The intermittent breathing Devil heard supported that theory. But even as she acknowledged the woman had brought agony on herself, she wasn’t immune to the fact that it was a terrible way to die.
Another rattling breath sounded. This one was followed by a moan that grew to a crescendo, then suddenly stopped. Devil tensed and leaned against the door, hungry for any information she could glean.
With her ear against the wood that separated her from the violent death happening on the other side, Devil heard the swish of fabric across the floor. A moment later, what sounded like a trash bin being knocked over was followed by a loud thump, as if Jennifer’s head had hit the ground.
Devil’s heart climbed into her throat, then, when she heard one long, shuddering breath, it sank. She had just heard Jennifer Pritchard’s final moments on this earth.
Rolling so that her back was to the door, she inhaled deeply through her mask. The action of moving air in and out of her lungs suddenly felt not just necessary, but like a luxury to be savored. A few minutes passed as Devil accepted that Jennifer was gone—they’d get no answers from her. And although it had been awful to listen to her die, even if Devil had been able to get to her, it was for the best she hadn’t. Whatever had infected Jennifer was potent. No one without a full containment suit should be anywhere near her.
Stepping away from the door, she pulled out her phone and texted Darius. After letting him know Jennifer was gone, she proceeded with a cursory search of the house. If Dr. Pritchard couldn’t enlighten them, perhaps there were notes or documents that might help.
The bedroom was remarkably sparse. Neither bedside table had a drawer, and the drawers in the dresser contained only clothing. The closet held the usual items as well as two boxes, which sat on the floor. But when Devil opened them, she found only old photos in one and old shoes in the other.
Leaving the bedroom, she skipped the kitchen and sitting room in the hopes of finding an office. The small library off the sitting room proved to not include a desk or computer, so she headed upstairs.
When she hit the landing, there was only one door open, and she poked her head inside the room. A floor lamp and side table sat beside a four-poster bed. On the opposite wall was a delicate dresser.
She walked over to the open window and looked out. Once the intruder and Darius had dropped to the ground, they’d disappeared from her line of sight. Lifting her gaze to the woods that lay one hundred yards away, she guessed they’d gone that direction. Studying the tree line, she startled when a figure emerged. Drawing away from the window, she eased forward enough to see the person now coming toward her.
She exhaled in relief when she recognized the form and the ground-eating gait. Darius was back.
Pulling her phone out, she sent him another text letting him know she was upstairs searching the house. Then, making her way back to the hallway, she opened the next door to find a small but functional bathroom. Moving on to the third door, she eased it open, then stilled as her gaze swept over the space.
Distantly she registered the sounds of Darius entering the house, and a short while later the heat of his body covered her back.
“What the fuck?” he asked, obviously stunned by what greeted him. What greeted them.
“It’s the kind of thing you see in movies when they finally track the crazy stalker down,” Devil replied.
“Only stalkers don’t usually stalk their parents,” he muttered.
But that was clearly what Jennifer Pritchard had been doing. The walls of the small space were covered in items featuring the older Dr. Pritchard. Articles written by or about him were tacked to the walls. Photos of him filled a large corkboard. And a map, documenting what Devil assumed to be the hot spots Gerard Pritchard had worked in, was spread across the top of the bed.
