Untainted: (Crime Romance: The Photographer Trilogy #3)

  He loved Annie, she was a mini version of Kate even though they were polar opposites. She looked so much like a little girl right now, all he wanted to do was comfort her and tell her everything was going to be okay. The truth was, he didn’t know if it would be.

  “Shit, Derrick!” Annie gasped suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts to look at her.

  Her face had lost all color and she was slowly walking toward the bookshelf on the wall closest to them.

  “What? Annie?” He watched her, completely baffled as to what had elicited her sudden reaction.

  She picked up a picture frame off the second shelf and examined it closer. He looked around the apartment briefly for any others. There were none, no other framed photographs, or photographs at all. Just that one in Annie’s hands and the album that still sat on the floor where he had dropped it.

  He walked over and stared at the image, still in Annie’s hands with her gaze locked, not even blinking. It was a younger version of Frank with an older man who carried a striking resemblance. They had their arms over one another’s shoulders, smiling, standing in front of horse stables.

  “I can’t believe I never noticed the resemblance.” Annie whispered to no one in particular.

  Derrick furrowed his brow and focused on the photograph, unsure of what she was seeing.

  “What are you talking about?” He asked her.

  Annie slowly tore her eyes away from the photograph and looked up at Derrick, a haunting expression paling her complexion. She was staring straight at him and yet it seemed like she was far away, seeing something entirely different. He took a step backward, unconsciously, feeling spooked by her look.

  “How much has Kate told you about her past?” She whispered.

  ~~~~~~

  They say that when you lose one sense, your remaining senses are heightened. Maybe it’s true, but when you’re suddenly thrust into a world of darkness, it can be impossible to distinguish what your other senses are telling you.

  Kate could feel the firm material across her eyes, completely blocking her vision. She moved her head around, shaking it, in an attempt to loosen whatever was covering them, but nothing worked. Whatever it was, it was fastened in place and had no plans of letting go. The world was slipping away from her.

  Everything is black.

  The words repeated through her mind like a broken record, as she slowly tried to absorb her situation. She could hear cars in the distance, passing by, with no signs of slowing down or stopping. She could hear wind pushing roughly over grass and bending branches.

  She could smell wood, or was it hay? Maybe it was just the smell of the country air, something that her life in Washington, DC didn’t expose her too much. She had no idea.

  Cold air raised small bumps up and down her arms that were securely tied behind her back. The angle and harsh pull of the ties made her feel like her shoulders were about to be dislocated.

  The hard, rubber cords that bound her hands and legs were pressing into her skin so deeply that she could feel her blood pulsing against them. She could hear her heart beat in her ears and feel it in her chest, rapidly warning her that she was in danger.

  Kate attempted to move, rocking herself side to side to try to get some momentum to bring her to her feet. It felt like hours, but might have only been minutes, as she tried again and again to stand up. Her attempts failed and only resulted in her landing on her side, still bound tightly.

  Next, she resorted to trying to straighten out her limbs. When she couldn’t seem to do that either, she finally realized that the binding on her hands were connected to the binding on her feet. She was completely imprisoned by these cords and whatever desolate structure she was in.

  She wasn’t sure if it was a shed or barn or any other simple building, but since she could tell she was mostly covered from the wind and there was no warmth of the sun beating down on her, she deduced that she must be inside something. She could still hear and feel the outdoors enough to know she wasn’t in a house, or a basement, or anywhere that was too securely shielded from the climate.

  She shivered slightly and that’s when she remembered Lenny. The images of hours ago, although she wasn’t sure how long it had been, suddenly flooded her mind behind the blindfold. He had tried to protect her, to care for her- now because of her, he was dead. Her Uncle Lenny.

  It was all her fault.

  Kate let out a loud sob, even though she attempted to stifle the sound. She felt the tears pushing against her blindfold, trying to find their way down her cheeks to no avail. They just sat there, drowning her eyes and aching as they continued to build up unapologetically.

  Even her tears weren’t free.

  ~~~~~~

  “By the look on your face, I’m guessing that there is something I don’t know?” Derrick said to Annie, his tone hushed as he gulped nervously.

  Annie sighed and dropped her arms, letting the photograph hang at her side. She covered her eyes with her other hand and groaned, dipping her head backward slightly. Derrick crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Tell me, Annie.” He spoke firmly, leaving no room for choice.

  “I told her so many times to tell you, but Kate never told anyone this. Only she and I know about it, not even Uncle Lenny knew. Our dad knew but pretty much drank himself into an early grave over it. Oh, and our mother knew, but God knows where the hell she is.” Annie began pacing back and forth across the living room, more so thinking out loud than talking to Derrick.

  Her eyes stared a hole through the photograph of the two men as Derrick watched her nervously.

  “Knew what?” He prodded again, grabbing the photograph from her hands and looking at it.

  She came to a stop at the sudden invasion, but then let him have it and continued her pacing.

  “That man with his arm around Frank? We knew him when we were kids, he was our elementary school principal when I was in kindergarten and Kate was in first grade. His name is Principal Stanley Smith.” Annie had collapsed onto the couch, her head in her hands as she spoke quickly.

  “This man was your principal? Frank knew your elementary school principal?” Derrick gawked at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “Apparently! And don’t fucking tell me that this is a small world, because there is no way that this is a coincidence. The world isn’t that small, or at least not that fucked up.” Annie now had her head between her legs and was clearly trying to just breathe, her chest heaving as she hyperventilated.

  Derrick wasn’t paying much attention, he was studying the photograph.

  “It says on the back ‘Me & Dad at Fallen Oak Stables - 1995’ on the back here.” Derrick told her, reading the pencil etchings on the backside of the photograph.

  “What?!” Annie bolted right up from the couch and made it over to him in a flash, grabbing the picture.

  “So, your elementary school principal was Frank’s father? What the hell is going on? This makes no sense.” Derrick stammered, rubbing his hand over his shaved head and muttering to himself.

  Confusion was evident in his expression.

  “His last name is Bild, I never would have put this together. There was no way we could have connected them.” Annie’s voice was eerily calm, she was no longer hyperventilating.

  “This wasn’t a coincidence, Derrick.” Annie turned her gaze to him, her eyes looking right through them as she recalled a memory from the past.

  “What do you mean? Are you saying Frank purposefully attacked Kate? Because she used to know his father? Why?” Derrick blurted out several questions in a row and Annie just whispered one answer.

  “Revenge.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Comfortable?” A deep, male voice vibrated right against her ear, causing Kate to jump out of her skin in shock.

  She hadn’t even heard anyone approaching as she drifted in and out of consciousness, still tied tightly in whatever prison she was in. The voice chuckled, a sinister tone to
his enjoyment, and then moved away.

  Her breath quickened as she gulped, but she didn’t respond. Her voice was stuck in her throat and all she could focus on was straining to hear where the voice was coming from. She listened to every crunch underneath his heavy boot and followed him as he paced around her.

  “You’ve been quite the headache for me, you little bitch.” The voice continued, moving in the space around her as the figure continued to pace.

  She trembled slightly, still saying nothing but feeling eerily confident that she knew this man’s voice. Something about it felt familiar, tugging at her memories, but stayed just out of her reach.

  “What do you want from me?” She croaked out, finally finding her voice, but barely able to mutter the words as a pain shot through her body.

  “What do I want from you?” The deep voice chuckled again.

  “Well, I wanted you fucking dead weeks ago after I fucked you.” He answered and she shuttered, feeling her insides squirm at the memory of her assault.

  She began to become aware of bruises all over her as the aching began to settle in specific areas on her body. Her mind flashed back to her apartment, fighting him off and she gasped as his face appeared before him. She knew who this was. She had seen his face.

  “Frank?” She whispered this time, hesitant and unsure.

  Light suddenly flooded her eyes and Kate screamed in pain as she felt like the skin on her face was being torn off her skull, a sickening ripping sound filled her ears. Tears immediately spilled over, but only caused her to scream louder as they stung the sensitive skin. As her vision began to steady, she saw the man of her nightmares standing before her holding a piece of duct tape and smiling at her.

  “Took you long enough to figure it out.” He laughed again, tossing the used piece of duct tape on to the ground that he had just ripped off her eyes.

  Kate’s entire body was trembling as she cried, still trying to come to terms with everything that was going on, with everything that she was seeing.

  “You’re the Photographer? Why?” She squeaked out, pain soaring through her body at lightning speed, enveloping her entirely.

  “Fucking hell, I’m not the Photographer. I fucking hate that name. So I took a few damn pictures, so what? The Photographer makes me sound like some artsy queer fuck.” He scoffed and leaned backward against the wooden wall in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.

  She began to notice her surroundings, realizing that the crunching sound beneath his feet had been hay. They were in a barn of some type, the room she was being held in was made up of wooden slats. The sun peeked through between each one, except for the one wall that had a sliding door on it, currently open.

  She saw an open hallway outside her small room with other doors, all closed across from her. Her particular stable stall gave her no other clues aside from the man sneering at her as he leaned and watched her.

  “Like it? It was my father’s. He never even used it. Got from my grandfather who raised horses or some shit like that. Been sitting pretty much abandoned for years ‘til I got it. I’ve been able to find some great uses for it.” The glint in his eyes as his cheeks turned up further into a grin terrified her.

  Kate shivered, even though she wasn’t cold.

  “What am I doing here?” She whispered, trying to find courage somewhere hidden inside her.

  She sat up as straight as she could, given her bindings. His eyes narrowed as he watched her efforts.

  “Well, that’s my own fuck up, really.” He sighed, almost nonchalantly, tossing his hands up in the air and pushing himself off the wall and walking toward her.

  She furrowed her brow in confusion as she watched him, frightened as he moved closer to her. He bent his knees and lowered himself to look her in the eyes, studying her slowly.

  He reached behind him and pulled something out of his back pocket, bringing it around to look at it. The photograph was pointed toward him and he licked his lips, his breath hitching slightly as he looked at the image.

  “Remember this?” He turned it around so that she could see it, a sinister smile on his face.

  Kate cried out at the image, unable to stifle the shock at the photograph that she also possessed. The image of her beaten and bloody in her bed. He had taken two instant photographs after assaulting her. One was now with the detectives.

  Frank snarled at her reaction and his right hand came out of nowhere fast, slapping her hard on the cheek as her head fell sideways with the blow.

  “Don’t you fucking scream, you bitch! This is one of my favorite pictures, show some damn respect.” He stood up and looked back at the photograph, smiling again.

  She glanced up at him, feeling a trickle of blood slipping down over her eyebrow.

  “See how hard I am just looking at this? Damn, I thought you were dead. Just my fucking luck, I didn’t hit you hard enough.” He shook his head and tucked the picture in his back pocket, readjusting his pants to accommodate the bulge in the front of his jeans.

  Kate felt the nausea spreading through her at the thought of what had happened, mixed with everything that was happening now. It was too much. She lurched forward, turning her head to the side, and vomited the contents of her stomach onto the hay floor.

  “Fuck, bitch. That’s disgusting. You always were disgusting.” He rolled his eyes and then kicked her hard in her side, causing her to fall over.

  Her face was inches from the puddle of vomit and the smell was threatening to make her heave again.

  “Turns out my mistake was a good thing. I’m glad you didn’t die that day. You deserve to suffer as much as he did. And I’m going to fucking see to it that you do.” Frank laughed and walked out of the stall, closing it behind him.

  Kate heard locks latching and then his footsteps retreating. Her mind was blank and overloaded all at the same time. She had known this man for years as Uncle Lenny’s assistant, yet everything he said made no sense to her. She racked her mind, attempting to understand who he was talking about, but came up empty.

  She felt herself drifting into unconsciousness, the exhaustion and pain overtaking her. Her ribs were broken, she could feel it. Yet she was almost thankful, because then it meant that she couldn’t breathe deeply enough to inhale the vomit in front of her. She wanted to laugh at such a twisted thought, but only a throaty sob came out. Kate’s eyes closed and her last thought was of the man she loved.

  A tear slid down onto her nose and slid off the bridge.

  ~~~~~~

  “We have to call McCraig and Snow!” Derrick said firmly, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

  “And tell them what?” Annie countered, her hands on her hips.

  “That we found this connection! I mean if what you just told me about Stanley Smith and Frank Bild is true, then Kate has been a target for years!” Derrick looked at Annie as if she had lost her mind.

  “Oh, great plan. And how do we explain the breaking and entering part?” She pointed toward the front door that was mostly closed, but clearly no longer on its hinges.

  Derrick followed her gesture and exhaled slowly.

  “Alright. New plan, let’s find Kate and not go to jail at the same time.” He countered, not knowing how to actually do that.

  Annie rolled her eyes and headed toward the door.

  “You’re a genius, Derrick, you know that?” Tensions were rising between the two as their task seemed insurmountable.

  Derrick felt her anger and took it quietly, not lashing back even though he could feel the same anger boiling in his blood. He knew that she wasn’t really mad at him, he knew who they were both really angry with.

  “Where are you going?” He called, putting the photograph back on the shelf and following her out the front door.

  He propped it up behind him so that it looked like it was properly closed, hoping that would hide any signs of their criminal conduct.

  “I know where Fallen Oak Stables is. It’s out past Middleburg, maybe an hour’s d
rive from here. Let’s go!” She replied, although he barely heard him since she was already rushing down the hallway.

  She had no plans on waiting for him, her mind was set on one thing.

  Finding Kate.

  “Fuck! Annie, stop!” Derrick called after her, not knowing what to do.

  He wanted to go and find Kate immediately, but he wasn’t about to let her little sister go charging into a psychopath’s lair. Picking up pace, he charged down the hallway after her, taking the stairs down three at a time.

  Annie was out of sight and Derrick began to panic. He rushed out the front door of the apartment building only to see his car skidding away, already half way down the block.

  He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, conflicting emotions charging through him. He hit the door with his hand angrily, furious that she had pretty much just stolen his car and run off into a dangerous situation. At the same time, he was terrified for her.

  With Kate not here, he felt a brotherly need to protect Annie, because he cared about Annie but also because he knew that Kate would want him to do that. Now he had just assisted Kate’s little sister in breaking and entering, stealing a car, and chasing down a potential serial killer.

  What a great big brother I turned out to be, Derrick scoffed at himself.

  He stood on the steps trying to figure out what to do for what felt like hours, but really only a few seconds clicked by. However, with Kate’s safety on the line, every second was a lifetime. He quickly turned on his heels and ran back into the apartment building, retracing his steps to Frank’s apartment, and entering easily since the door was really only a prop at this point.

  He had recalled seeing car keys hanging on a hook by the front door and quickly grabbed them, then put the door back the way it was, and ran back out of the building, circling around to the back. He clicked the lock button, waiting to see which car in the parking lot would respond.

  A sedan at the back of the lot lit up and flickered its lights with a soft beep, calling his attention. Derrick grinned and raced over to it, sliding in the driver’s seat and shooting out of the lot at double the speed limit. One hand on the wheel, his other hand was tapping the name of the stable into his GPS on his phone.