Chapter Thirty-Six
River jerked his Glock up, aimed it at the trees across the road. His heart thumped hard, the knot in his gut tightening.
“You heard it?” Vicki moved to his side.
“Yeah. Bastard said Polo.” An invitation he couldn’t turn down.
“Here.” She handed him a flashlight, and he switched it on.
“You should stay here,” he murmured, his attention riveted on the pines. Kent was in there somewhere. He knew it.
“Like hell.” She moved next to him. “Where you go, I go.”
River wanted to protest, but what she said made sense. If he left her at the car, he’d worry whether Kent had doubled back—he was sneaky that way. “Fine. But stay close.”
He led her across the street, moving his gaze systematically left to right in search of the killer. It was a game. One Kent believed he would win. But determination ran deep in River’s veins. This time, he would have vengeance.
Even with the flashlight, shadows pooled thick along the ground. He stepped into the inordinately large stand of trees. If he continued straight ahead, he would lead them into the marsh. But how far off that lay, he hadn’t a clue.
He paused, listened. The rustle of underbrush brought him spinning around, and he rushed off, Vicki on his heels. When a swish of air grazed his shoulder, he stumbled to a stop, swiped the flashlight’s beam through the trees. Nothing.
A breeze moved through the trees, and the shadows shifted, quivered. How the hell was he supposed to find anyone in here? Of course, that was part of the game. The struggle. The competition to determine who was smarter, more devious.
Vicki touched his arm, her fingers a light caress to let him know her location. He glanced down, found her searching the dappled copse in search of the monster who’d tortured her. He turned toward her, the bed of pine needles beneath his feet muffling his movements.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.
She turned steel-gray eyes on him. “Like hell. The bastard tried to kill me.”
“I know. But chasing after a murderer like this could get you killed.” He understood her desire for revenge, but he couldn’t risk it. He pivoted on his heel and headed back out to the road.
“Wait.” Her whisper slipped through the night air.
Rounding back, he realized she’d dropped to her hands and knees. He moved to her side while she clawed the carpet of needles aside, digging down to the rich black soil underneath. The moonlight beamed, the bright-gray circle spotlighting her efforts.
“What are you doing?”
“It worked in the house.” She peered up at him. Sweat beads dotted her forehead. “At least I think it did.” She continued clearing the ground, smoothed the dirt below.
“What are you talking about?”
“The killer’s sign.” She brushed her hands on her jeans. “I drew the pointed capital D with my heel. Dragged it through that poor girl’s blood.”
“Yeah. I remember.” He glanced around, ever watchful. “It didn’t magically set us free. He untied you, dragged you off. And I flipped my chair and broke it. In the end, he escaped, so I’m not ready to say we got the upper hand. Drawing the symbol didn’t really change a thing.”
“Or did it?” She leaned over, snatched up a nearby stick, and drew a circle in the damp earth. “We’re still alive.”
“Yeah, but I just saw my next to last symbol.” He jerked his thumb toward the sky. “My bright-gray circle happens to be the moon.”
She glanced up then continued drawing. “Yes, but by drawing the last symbol, the killer’s symbol, earlier, we changed the order. I think…I hope it changed the outcome of my vision…or at least bought us some time to plan our next move. And since we’re still here, it seems like it did.”
“I hope you’re right. If you were talking to Lenny, I’m sure he’d be onboard.” He gritted his teeth, searching their immediate area for any sign Kent waited nearby.
“I saw my next to last symbol, too…the glowing circle of gold. I thought I was finished, that he would kill me.” She completed the pentagram and looked up at him. “But then you saved me.”
He stared at what she’d created in the dirt. “So, you want to get us killed by drawing the final symbol yourself?”
“Not really. Besides, I already drew it once.” A smile played on her lips, and vengeance lit her eyes. “No. This time, I want to bring him to us.”
He raised a brow. “That’s a damn good plan.”
“Okay.” She paused, the stick poised above the center of the pentagram. “Be ready. He’s fast and could come from anywhere.”
“Damn straight.” River remembered the blur of movement when Kent had escaped from the dining room. He did a quick check of his pistol, gripped it tight, and prepared for anything. “Do it.”
He waited, his attention focused on their surroundings. Will it really work? Can drawing a picture in the dirt summon a murderer? Two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have believed it possible. Tonight, however, he hoped for exactly that.
“Done.” She rose to her feet.
River turned in a circle, struggled to see deeper into the darkness, strained to hear the slightest hint of movement. After several tense minutes, he let his shoulders drop. “I don’t think it worked.”
“I don’t either.” She sighed. “Maybe he’s gone.”
He lowered his gun, stared at the symbol. His skin crawled. The urge to kick his foot through the dirt and destroy the drawing jolted though him.
His stomach clenched, twisted, and knotted. He brought the Glock up again, his heart banging against his sternum.
“What?” Vicki moved closer.
“He’s here.” Hot fear crept up his back, licked at the ice-cold sweat that trickled down. Damn if the drawing didn’t work. He spun, searched for any sign of activity.
“Where?” she whispered.
River froze, an electric tingle raising the hairs on his body. He tilted his head back, shone the flashlight into the treetops, the beam illuminating the demonic killer halfway up a needle-thin pine tree.
“Polo.” Kent laughed.
“Sonovabitch.” River squeezed the pistol’s trigger. Chunks of the bark sprayed the air.
The bastard jumped, landed on a tree closer to River and Vicki. He leered down at them, his black eyes glittering in the moonlight.
River fired three successive shots. Kent leaped from one tree to the next, the thin timber bowing under his weight and springboarding him to another. Pine needles rained down from above. The air reeked with the sharp scent of resin.
Kent clung to the tree; one foot and one hand held him at an angle that defied gravity. His face radiated pleasure, and River growled. The bastard was enjoying their cat-and-mouse game. He’d baited River into almost emptying his magazine. One shot remained.
He aimed, but before he could pull the trigger, the man jumped to the ground. The blur of motion left River’s Glock pointed at the branches high in the tree. He jerked the gun lower, aimed the muzzle at his opponent’s head.
“River,” Kent crooned. “After all we’ve been through together, is this any way to treat your old partner?”
River didn’t blink. He pulled the trigger. The bullet erupted from the gun, the recoil sending the end of the barrel popping up into the air.
Kent twitched. The hollow point round shot past him and slammed into a tree where chunks of wood exploded out the opposite side. Impossible.
“Damn, Riv.” Kent glanced over his shoulder at the devastation wrought on the thin pine. “That’s harsh.”
Without hesitation, River released the gun’s magazine. It bounced on the thick needle bed and bumped against his shoe. He met the bastard’s arrogant gaze head-on. River could almost reach out and strangle him. Instead, he opted to reload his gun. As he’d done hundreds of times before at the police shooting range, he retrieved his second magazine, lined it up in the receiver, and rammed it home.
Kent grimaced. “Seems you’re hell-bent on shooting me.”
“Yep.” He jerked the slide, chambering a round.
In a blink, Kent stood at River’s side. “Your girlfriend’s hot.”
He jolted, rounded toward the murderer. But he was gone. Damn, the bastard’s fast. It’s like he’s not human.
Warm breath wisped across the back of his neck. “See you later, Riv.”
He pivoted, but instead of finding Kent’s arrogant face, he aimed his gun at Vicki’s cowering form. Breath jammed in his throat, and he shifted his weapon away from her. Damn it. He’d almost pulled the trigger.
Rage consumed him, gnawed on tensed nerves. He spun around, his finger pressed against the trigger. “Where’d the bastard go?”
“Lenny was right,” she said, a quaver in her voice. “Thurisaz has possessed the guy. No human can move like that.”
“Just tell me where the hell he went,” River growled.
Vicki raised her arm and, with a shaky hand, pointed in the direction of the marsh.
He nodded. “Stay here.”
“River.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “Be careful.”
The sight of her along with her soft tone added a new level to his determination. He’d keep her safe and take the murdering bastard down. “I will.”
Rapid gunfire filled the night air. Three consecutive shots followed by two more. Then silence.
He took off at a run, dodging through the trees. Not knowing the situation he might encounter, he kept the flashlight low, a few steps ahead of him. No need to alert anyone of his approach.
The sound of Vicki’s shoes treading over the ground at his six told him she hadn’t stayed put. He considered sending her back, but it would take too long. Someone might need help. So, he plunged ahead toward the origin of the gunfire.
Skirting around a thick tangle of brush, he spotted a bright beam illuminating a swath of ground not far in the distance. He stumbled to a stop, switched off his flashlight. Vicki staggered to his side, breathy pants rushing through her parted lips.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Not sure.” He squinted at the scene. “I’ve got to get closer. Stay here.”
“No.”
Looking down, he met her stubborn, gray-eyed gaze. “I’m not about to let you walk into a possible fire fight and get shot, for God’s sake. You’re staying put.”
“You’re not keeping me from anything.” Her whispered words popped with each syllable. “Do you think I’d let you face that demon alone?”
Demon? He couldn’t consider the idea at the moment. Instead, he held up his weapon.
“Yeah. And that worked so great last time.” Her lips thinned. “That…thing saw the bullet coming and dodged it. The only way you’ll shoot him is if I distract him.”
River smiled. Damn, she was smart. “Fine. But stay behind me. A good ten feet if you can manage it.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the area ahead. “I’ll go in first.”
With her nod of agreement, he crept toward the light, his steps muffled by the needle-laden ground. As he drew close, he spotted two people in the clearing. One lay on the ground. The other knelt next to the first.
Had one shot the other?
Only one way to know. River took a breath to steel his nerves. Weapon in hand, he stepped out of the shadows. A breeze shifted the trees, allowing moonlight to illuminate the two people. Surprise jolted through him.
“Dauscher!” He rushed forward. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
His partner remained hunched over the body.
“Dauscher?” River touched his shoulder. “You okay?”
The brute of a detective jerked, turned a glassy-eyed stare on River. For a moment, confusion lit his partner’s eyes, but then Dauscher blinked, and the reliable bulldog was there.
“River.” Dauscher peered down to where he held the other person’s wrist. “Just checking for a pulse.”
Kent lay on the ground. Bullet holes had ripped through his stomach, chest, and shoulder—a single round hole above his right eyebrow.
“Is there a pulse?” It was a crazy question. No one could survive an assault like that. But after what he’d been through with Kent—what he’d seen the man do—anything was possible.
“No.” Dauscher rose, a bit unsteady on his feet. He stared down at the body.
River touched his arm, tried to ground him. After a shooting, it was best to go over what transpired, get it straight so when the investigation came, there’d be no bumps. Killing another person sometimes jumbled things in an officer’s mind, not to mention the guilt of taking a life.
“What happened?”
The big guy’s brows drew together, and he grimaced. “Hell, River. It was like…I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Vicki eased from the shadows, relief shining in her eyes. “He’s dead?”
“Yeah,” River told her then turned back to his partner. “Start from the beginning.”
“You called. Said you were coming out here.” He shook his head. “Didn’t think that was such a great idea.”
“It wasn’t.” He cast Vicki an apologetic look. Her shoulder raised a fraction then lowered.
“Anyway,” Dauscher continued, “on the way home, I thought I’d swing by. Check on you two. I heard shots fired in the woods.” The side of his mouth pulled into a half smile, but deep concern filled his eyes. “Figured it was you, so I drew my gun and dove through the brush. Thought you could use the backup. Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
Vicki stepped forward. “He gave me his cell, but I couldn’t get reception.”
Dauscher reached down, took out his cell phone. With a distressed frown, he held it up. Full reception glowed on the screen.
“My guess is something else might’ve been at play.” River shook his head, not wanting to think about the unexplainable evidence that just kept piling up. “What happened next?”
Dauscher stared in the direction River and Vicki had come through the woods. “I don’t know. I just….”
“Take it easy. Go slow.” He could imagine what might have happened, but he needed his partner to go through it.
“I was out here. Searching for you. Trying to figure out what the hell you’d gotten yourself into. And then….” He ran a hand through his hair, huffed a sharp burst of breath. “It was like this huge burst of wind came through the trees. Except it wasn’t. It just came straight toward me. Like some damn freight train aimed right at me, except there was this rush of air.”
River nodded. He’d experienced the same blur of motion himself. “Keep going.”
“My gun was in my hand when I came in the woods. I aimed it where I thought…whatever it was would come out. I was ready, but it happened so fast. It just rushed out at me, and I pulled the trigger.” He shook his head. His brow furrowed, confusion emerging in his eyes. “I shot it…him. But he still knocked me through the air. Hit that tree.” He pointed at a pine. A smear of blood coated the bark. “Bastard came at me again, so I fired. Killed the sonovabitch.”
“Good.” He patted his partner on the back. A healthy wave of relief washed over him. The nightmare had at last ended. He punched 911 on his cell phone. “I’m calling for an ambulance and more backup.”
“Jesus, River. That guy was sitting at my desk.” Dauscher swallowed and ran his hand over his face. “He sat there and told me he was worried his roommate was a murderer. I had the bastard right there at my desk. I could’ve ended it there, locked him up.” His gaze shifted from River to Vicki. “Then none of this would’ve happened.”
“It’s okay, man.” He squeezed his partner’s shoulder. “We’re fine.”
Vicki moved closer, stared down at the dead body. Her lower lip trembled. Taking a breath, she lifted her eyes to the man who’d ended the monster’s life.
“Thank you, Detective Dauscher.”