Predator

  Krista turned onto her street. “It won’t undo anything. You’re going to need counseling. But it’ll help. Just knowing there really is such a thing as justice…”

  She pressed the button on her garage door opener, then pulled into her garage.

  She got out and helped Megan out, got her crutches from the backseat. She followed Megan to the door, then unlocked it, and let her in.

  Her father had left the light on in the kitchen, and the television on. She imagined him dropping everything and racing out of the house when he got her call.

  As Megan lowered into a chair at the kitchen table, Krista changed the channel to a local station. “Maybe they’ll cut in when he’s arrested,” she said. “This will even make national news because of who he is.”

  “Is the press going to hound me?” Megan asked. “Because I honestly don’t think I can talk about it.”

  “You won’t have to.” She filled the coffeepot and started it percolating, then sat down next to Megan.

  She heard movement in the other room, a subtle shifting of air, the tap of a footstep. Was her father home after all? Where was his car? She turned toward the door and called, “Dad?”

  A shadow moved into the doorway from the living room. She stood up slowly, took a step toward it…

  Megan screamed.

  Henry Hearne stood there with a smile on his face. He was holding a gun.

  Sixty-two

  Krista couldn’t seem to draw in a breath. Her gun, she thought. Where was her gun?

  She’d left it in the glove box in her car.

  Sweat broke out on her skin, beading on her lip, dripping down her temples. “What…do you…want?”

  His eyes were pure evil. “I enjoyed your sister, so I thought I’d come and see how much you’re like her.”

  “You evil monster…”

  He turned and looked at Megan, who sat frozen, no color in her face. “And Megan, what a joy to find you here. I’ve always detested unfinished business.”

  Megan got up, took a step, then wobbled, and dropped to the floor. Krista fell to her side. “They know about you!” she bit out. “The police are looking for you right now. They know who you are.”

  He laughed. “Nice try. But they don’t know me. Megan doesn’t even know my name.”

  Megan’s eyes fluttered open. “You’re Henry Hearne,” she said. “I told them what you did to me!”

  The glee left his eyes, and a flicker of fear passed over his face. “Even if that were true, they wouldn’t believe you. I’m a powerful man. I own people.”

  “It is true,” Krista said. “If anything happens to us they’ll know it was you. There’ll be nowhere for you to hide. Your money will be useless.”

  She noticed a tremor in the hand holding his gun. The news shook him. “But if you leave us alone right now, you could walk out of here, disappear, and access your money before they freeze your accounts. You could get out of the country.”

  For a moment, he seemed to consider it. Then the grin returned to his face. “Once the only eyewitness is dead, they’ll never be able to pin this on me. Get up, both of you!”

  Megan’s face twisted, and a low, deep moan came from her throat. Krista helped her to her feet.

  Hearne wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “We’re going to your car,” he said. “You’re going to drive, Krista…and Megan will sit in the passenger seat. I’ll be in the backseat ready to put a bullet in her brain.”

  “Where are you taking us?” Krista asked him.

  “Somewhere private,” he said. “Somewhere where we’ll have plenty of time.”

  Yes, Krista thought, if they got in her car, she’d be able to get her gun.

  But Megan was trembling so fiercely that Krista doubted she could walk. She held her close to herself and helped her limp to the door. She turned the knob, praying her father would come.

  When she opened the door, his bay was still empty. Where had Hearne left his own vehicle? How had he gotten in here?

  “Don’t open the garage until we’re in the car,” he said.

  Krista’s mind raced. Maybe she could get someone’s attention. A neighbor…the mailman…

  “Both of you. In the car.”

  Krista felt the barrel of the gun in her back, and she opened the passenger door. “Get in, Megan,” she whispered.

  “I can’t,” Megan sobbed. “I can’t do it.”

  He rammed the gun against Krista’s kidney. “Now, Megan, or I’ll finish my business with you right here.”

  She sucked in a breath and got into the car. He got into the backseat, his gun to Megan’s head, as Krista went around and slipped into the driver’s side.

  “Now, open the garage and pull out slowly. And if you do anything to call attention to yourself, you’re both dead. I have nothing to lose by taking two more lives.”

  She pushed the button, and as the garage door came up, Krista glanced toward her glove box. If she could just reach it…

  She met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Let’s go,” he said.

  She started the car and backed out, praying that God was watching. He knew the number of her days, just as he’d known Ella’s. She prayed Henry Hearne’s wouldn’t be the last face she saw.

  Sixty-three

  Ryan had spent so much time at the police station lately that he knew most of the staff by name. Today he and Ian had spent hours with the detectives and the FBI, going over the details of the Data-Gather program and the access Henry Hearne had to GrapeVyne sites.

  When they were finished with him, he learned Krista and Megan had left moments before. He called Krista to make sure she was okay. Her phone rang through to voicemail. That didn’t make sense. She would have her phone with her, waiting for them to tell her when they’d made the arrest.

  He decided to drive over to her house and check on her. She was probably grieving more than any day since Ella’s body was found. He wanted to comfort her.

  When he pulled into her driveway, the garage door was up, but there were no cars in the bays. Alarm bells rang through his mind. Every time he’d been there before, the garage door was closed, even when they were home. She wouldn’t have left it open.

  He knocked on the front door, but there was no answer.

  Maybe she had taken Megan to the airport. Her phone could have died. Maybe in all the excitement, she’d forgotten to close the garage door.

  He’d turned to go back to his car, when her father pulled into the driveway. David shot him a harsh look as he pulled his car around Ryan’s and into the garage. Ryan waited for him to get out.

  David slammed his door. “What are you doing here?”

  Ryan almost winced at his tone. Identifying the killer hadn’t changed the man’s attitude about him. “I was looking for Krista. She told Detective Pensky she was going home, but she’s not here. And she’s not answering her phone. I’m worried about her.”

  David stared at him. “How did you get the garage open?”

  “I didn’t. It was open when I got here.”

  David’s brows drew together as he looked at the door. “Krista knows better than that. She always closes it.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed her on speed dial.

  When he lowered the phone, Ryan said, “No answer?”

  “No.”

  Ryan felt sick. “This isn’t right.” He walked down the driveway, looked in both directions for…what? A police car? Henry Hearne?

  David followed him. “Ryan, you don’t think—”

  Ryan walked out into the street, looked to the left. No cars were parked on the street in that direction. He turned to the right. About eight houses down, he saw a black SUV, like the one Henry Hearne parked in his reserved space at Willow. “No, don’t tell me…”

  He started running toward it.

  David’s feet pounded the blacktop behind him. “Ryan!”

  Ryan reached the car, looked in the window. Hearne wasn’t there. He tried to open the door, but it was locked
. On the seat, he saw a laptop.

  David was out of breath as he caught up to him. “Ryan…what are you doing?”

  “I think this is his car,” he said, going from one door to another. They were all locked. “It’s Hearne’s SUV.”

  David’s jaw dropped. “Aw, no…”

  Ryan grabbed a large rock from the garden near a mailbox. He picked it up and slammed it into the driver’s side window, cracking the glass. Rearing back, he crashed the rock into it again, this time shattering it.

  David froze as Ryan reached through the broken glass and unlocked the door. He dusted glass off the seat and got in, grabbed the laptop and opened it.

  A map of the area filled the screen, and he saw a moving triangle, curling down the interstate. “That’s them!”

  David’s voice was hoarse. “What is?”

  “He must have a transponder on Krista’s car. He’s been following her.”

  “Then…where is he?”

  Ryan got out of the car with the laptop. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s with her. Come on, we have to go after them.”

  They ran side by side, back to the house. Ryan reached his car first, and he popped the lock. “You drive, Mr. Carmichael.”

  David took Ryan’s keys and got in, started the car. Ryan slipped into the passenger side and opened the computer. “Head toward Avery Boulevard.”

  He called the police, told them what they’d found, and where the car was. “Don’t touch anything,” the dispatcher said.

  “I already have. I have his computer that’s tracking Krista’s car.”

  “Just wait there until the police come.”

  “No!” he yelled. “I’m using it to track them. You’ve got to help us. They’re traveling north on Firon Street in a navy blue Kia.”

  David screeched around corners like a stunt driver, until he reached the interstate. “The police haven’t picked him up yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  He stomped the accelerator and flew at a hundred miles per hour, weaving in and out of lanes, with no patience for traffic. “Please, God…”

  Ryan kept the phone to his ear as the dispatcher put him through to Detective Pensky.

  “Ryan, what’s going on?” the detective asked.

  Ryan told him as he watched the triangle make a turn. “They’re going east on Hampstead Road.”

  “There’s nothing there!” David said. “Just trees. He’s going to kill her.”

  Ryan thought of the terror Krista must be feeling right now, and the added trauma for Megan, if she was still with her.

  Lord, please protect them!

  Would God allow Krista to be snatched away now, when he was falling in love with her?

  No, that couldn’t happen.

  Jesus, stop this! Help us find them…

  David flew through the city, screeching around corners, until he reached Hampstead Road. He soared down the long, lonely road, shaded by bare branches of oak trees.

  “They’re turning,” Ryan said, watching the green triangle slow and move across the screen. He zoomed in on the road name. “It’s Carson Street.”

  David slowed enough to read the signs. When he finally got to Carson Street, he turned.

  “They’re turning again,” Ryan said.

  “Where?”

  Ryan tried to zoom in, but there was no street where they had turned. “I don’t know. It’s off the road somewhere.” He looked up as they flew past trees. “Slow down. Look for a dirt road, a driveway, anything…”

  “Where are the police?” David yelled.

  Sixty-four

  The dirt road was long and winding, made more for three-wheelers than for a car. As Krista drove down it, bushes and branches scraped and beat her car.

  Behind her, Hearne kept his gun to Megan’s head.

  Maybe there was a house back here, or someone hunting. She prayed that God would intervene and not let him murder them.

  No one knew where they were!

  They went about a mile into the dense forest, and the path ended at a creek. As she stepped on the brakes, she scanned the area, looking for an escape. If they could just get out of the car, maybe she could run. But not without Megan.

  Megan covered her head, wailing, traumatized. The gun was still in the glove compartment, just in front of Megan. If Megan could just grab it…

  Hearne opened his car door, and got out on Krista’s side, moving his aim to her head as he reached for her door.

  “Megan,” she whispered quickly. “Glove compartment. Gun.”

  But Megan was too distraught, and she didn’t hear.

  Hearne opened her door. His eyes looked wild, anxious.

  Megan moaned, rocking back and forth as though comforting herself.

  “Please…” Krista said, looking up at him.

  He pulled something out of his pocket. White plastic ties.

  “Put your hands together at the top of the steering wheel,” he said.

  She hesitated.

  “Do it!”

  Krista grabbed the top of the steering wheel.

  “Megan,” he said, bending in. “If you keep wailing like that, I’m going to put a bullet through your brain. Is that what you want?”

  She hushed, but kept clutching her head and rocking.

  “Megan, take this tie, and wrap it around Krista’s wrists.”

  Megan shook her head no. “I can’t.”

  “It’s okay, Megan,” Krista said, trying to keep her voice calm. “Go ahead. Do it.”

  With shaking hands, Megan took the tie and wrapped it around Krista’s wrists.

  “Slip it through the hole, and pull it tight,” he said. “Hurry.”

  She did as he said and pulled it. The insides of Krista’s wrists touched each other, but it wasn’t too tight.

  “Now, take this other one,” he said, giving it to Megan. “And put it through the first one, then tie it to the steering wheel.”

  “Can’t,” Megan muttered. “I’m gonna be sick.”

  “Come on, Megan,” Krista coaxed. “Please, just do what he says.”

  Megan pulled the tie through so that it bound Krista’s hands to the steering wheel.

  Hearne grabbed the end of each tie, yanked them tighter. Krista thought her wrists would snap. He leaned in and got her car keys, slid them into his pocket. Then he went around the car to get Megan.

  “Glove compartment,” Krista bit out. “Megan, open it!”

  But Megan snapped, and lunged out of the car, trying to escape before Hearne could get to her. Because of her leg brace, she hobbled more than ran. Krista screamed as Hearne descended on Megan and knocked her to the ground.

  The gun…she had to get to the gun.

  Megan was screaming, fighting, but her fight seemed to delight Hearne. He was going to rape the girl again. He was going to murder her this time. Then he would do it to Krista, and bury them both.

  God, you’ve got to help us!

  She tried to free her hands, without success, and she shook the steering wheel, tried to curl her hands and slip them out. But the ties were too tight.

  She slipped her right foot out of its shoe and groped at the glove compartment. She managed to pull the handle with her toe, and the small door opened.

  She could see the gun. She just couldn’t get to it. Please God!

  He’d gotten Megan to her feet, ripped her brace off her leg. She kicked and screamed as he tried to control her.

  Grunting, Krista lifted her leg again, and with her foot, managed to slide the gun out. It hit the floor on the passenger side of the car.

  Hearne got Megan down again, swung to hit her with his fist, but she foiled his swing. Somewhere, Krista heard dogs barking.

  She slid partially off her seat, moving her right leg around her console, to the other floorboard. She felt the gun, but only pushed it away. No, she had to reach it…pull it.

  But it was too far. As she groped for it with her foot, she heard Megan’s bloody scream.

&nb
sp; As David drove, Ryan searched for any sign of tire tracks going off the road. But he saw nothing. Where had they turned?

  He watched the triangle on the computer. “It’s still up ahead. We haven’t passed their turnoff yet.”

  “How far?” David asked, breathing hard.

  “Maybe a mile.”

  David sped up as Ryan spoke to Pensky again. “How far away are you guys?”

  “We’re almost to Carson.”

  “We’ve lost them,” he said. “We don’t know where they turned off.” It looked as if they were coming closer to the triangle. “It’s somewhere along here,” he said. “They turned left. There has to be a road or driveway…”

  “There’s nothing,” David cried. “He’s going to kill her!”

  Krista slid sideways on the seat, hands still bound to the steering wheel. She managed to touch the gun again with her foot, and this time pulled it toward her. Afraid it would go off accidentally, she got it to the hump between the seats and managed to pull it over.

  Megan screamed outside the car, long, blood-curdling screams that racked through the forest. The gun fell onto Krista’s side of the floorboard. Straightening, she looked out the windshield.

  Megan had gotten to her feet and was running again, each step on her right leg making her lunge. Hearne was on her heels, grabbing her hair, throwing her back down.

  Krista slipped her other foot out of its shoe, kicked the shoes aside, then swept the gun between both of her feet. She lifted her legs, trying to get it up to her bound hands. How would this ever work?

  Sweat trickled into her eyes, though cold wind swept through the car. She worked at it again, moving her knees apart as her feet came up with the gun. Grinding her teeth, she leaned back and pulled her feet up, trying to twist her fingers down so she could grab it. She couldn’t reach, so she dipped her head and clamped her teeth over the barrel.

  She pulled it up, placed it in her hands, turned it around.

  Megan was flailing, scratching Hearne’s eyes, kicking with all her might. He held his gun tight in one hand, but let her go and grabbed a fallen branch. Holding it like a bat, he reared back to swing.