Page 111 of Her Last Whisper
McGaven pulled his cell phone to call Katie just as it rang. He pressed the talk button, “McGaven.”
The voice on the other end was familiar and said, “This is Chad. I just heard about the fire over on the south end of town. I tried Katie’s cell but it went to voicemail.”
“Katie’s fine. We’re at the Humanity Project checking some things out.”
“Humanity Project? I heard that’s a bad place,” Chad said.
“Nothing to worry about. Katie will call you later,” he said and hung up as he moved toward the other street. He cut through several yards to get to the white house where Katie had called from, and then he dropped his phone. He bent down to retrieve it, and that was when someone whacked him on the head, throwing him to the ground. Groggily, he tried to get up to face his attacker, but his vision slowly faded. The last thing he heard before giving in to the darkness was Cisco’s barking.
Sixty-Six
The word “TRUTH” mesmerized Katie and she found herself drawn to the wall—not able to take her eyes away from it. On the floor in front of the message were several spray paint cans lying on their sides. Holding her flashlight above her directed Glock, she closely examined the letters of the word. Wondering if there were visible fingerprints still on the spray cans, Katie leaned over to have a better look.
She touched the back of her left hand against the wall and found that the paint was dry, but that still didn’t lessen the chilling image.
This pleasant small house was the home base for a killer, or at least it was somewhere he hung out. She pulled out her cell phone. “Where are you?” she said softly.
There was intermittent static.
Katie couldn’t take her eyes away from the message on the wall. She noticed that the spray-painted “H” at the end of the word “TRUTH” swept up and around, crossing the “T.” It was an interesting personal signature.
She knew that McGaven would join her in a couple of minutes, so she hurried to walk around the main floor examining everything she could until he arrived. She realized she was in the area where the killer might have spent time, devised his plans, and masterminded his fantasies. It was actually a perfect cover and an ideal place to hide in plain sight. Again, clever and devious, which matched her preliminary profile—along with organized.
As she walked from the kitchen area back to the living room, she searched for a false wall and noticed a smudged area with what looked like grease about halfway up around the corner section. It appeared to be recent. Moving closer, she ran her fingertips down the side and felt an indentation where her index and middle finger fit easily.
She heard a weird noise, almost a raspy groaning, that sounded more like a dying animal, which made her instantly direct her gun and use her flashlight to sweep the area. Nothing was in sight—she half expected to see a cat or possibly a raccoon in the corner. But she was still alone.
Dammit! Where are you, McGaven?
There it was again. The strained sound as if it bubbled up from the bowels of the earth—chilling and creepy at the same time.
Katie retraced her findings on the wall and placed her two fingers into the niche again—this time she pressed and slid, and then pushed harder until the corner flexed. She pushed the wall as hard as she could and it wouldn’t move. Using several different techniques of pulling, pushing, and sliding, she managed to move the hidden door wide enough for her to peek behind it. It was a cleverly designed entrance that most people would never know was there unless they looked for it. She never would have thought to look for it if it wasn’t for her visit to the special effects company and all their masterful makeup and animated techniques.
Nothing was as it seemed.
Her heart pounded as her breath became erratic in anticipation. She needed to wait for McGaven, but she had to get inside the secret room. She peered into the opening. To her horror, as the flashlight beam crossed the small-sized bedroom, she saw a woman’s body on the bed. Unmoving.
Not waiting another minute, Katie frantically attacked the secret door until she opened it wide enough to squeeze through. Her head roared with the sounds of her own heavy breathing and muttered words of hope. Images spilled into her mind and blurred her vision. Her mind played tricks on her as the stakes of the investigation rose.
The little girl and her mother were preparing food. Their eyes looking straight at her—pleading with her to protect them.
The boom—the flash—in an instant—they were gone. I couldn’t save them…
She rushed to the bed where a woman lay still with her hands secured to the headboard and her ankles to the bottom posts. The restraints had bloodied her wrists and ankles; they had raw gaping wounds. The room reeked of urine, making Katie gag. She pressed her finger against the woman’s neck for several seconds. There was a faint pulse.
“C’mon, wake up,” Katie urged.
She carefully began to peel away the horrible duct tape that took part of her skin and hair with it.
The woman moved, startling Katie. First her hands and then her legs twitched.
His blood had saturated the front of Katie’s uniform, leaving behind dark red streaks infused with tiny pieces of other matter.
She wiped the side of her face with the back of her hand; it too was covered with blood… I couldn’t save him… Jack was gone.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Katie said. “You’re safe now. I’m getting help.” She kept a watchful eye, making sure no one was going to creep up behind her.
The woman moved her cracked bleeding lips and tried to say something.
