CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
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Coen palmed the key to the rental house he’d forgotten to give back in his haste to return to Florida, only to find himself returning back to Colorado that same night. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since he’d found Brettany running through the woods seeking safety. The local, state, and federal authorities had no luck in locating Simone Gilpin. Neither had the SSI team.
“They’re getting ready to call off the search for the night.” Calvert fell into step beside Coen as they crossed the porch. The buttcan he’d used as a ruse was stilling sitting in the same place. That meant if Simone had gotten lost somewhere in the dense forest or been shot, though the first possibility was highly unlikely given her training, she would at least have a lighter on hand. Unlike Coen, he discovered that she actually smoked cigarettes. “I’ve hired a search and rescue team out of Vail. They’re experienced with extreme weather conditions, and they use dogs trained for these situations. They’ll be here in under two hours.”
“I don’t get it,” Coen said, his eyes burning from lack of sleep more than the cold wind carrying across the porch. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision so that he could slide the key into the slot, turning the deadbolt to allow them entry. “Simone is a skilled agent with a military background. She should have easily handled herself against Perkins. Brettany mentioned she disappeared from view, which could only mean she was waiting for the right moment to strike. What could have happened that stopped Simone from doing her job?”
It was known that bears and cougars roamed these Colorado mountains, but there would have been traces of blood or even a body left behind if that had been the case. It was as if Simone Gilpin had simply up and disappeared.
The stark bitter odor of copper hit Coen unexpectedly the moment he opened the front door. He palmed his weapon and forced himself to breathe through his mouth. Something, or someone, had lost a lot of blood inside.
Son of a bitch.
Had Simone made her way back to this house? How had the deputies posted out front missed her entrance? And just how badly was she hurt?
The living room was clear, just as the kitchen and bathroom were on the main level. Calvert took the lead up the stairs, using the empty wall opposite the stairwell for support as he trained his weapon toward the hallway that ran horizontal to the two bedrooms. Coen quietly turned the knob on the basement door, quietly and efficiently clearing the lower level of any threat.
That meant whatever there was to find was on the upper level. Coen quickly made his way back up the two flights of stairs, only to find Calvert standing in the doorway of the main bedroom with his weapon down at his side.
“Are we clear?” Coen asked cautiously, casting a look in the direction of the spare bedroom at the end of the hallway. “Calvert? Did you clear the—”
“It’s clear.” Calvert’s tone had hardened in a way Coen had only ever heard once before, and that was when he’d learnt of Shepherd Moss’ escape from federal prison. “Call in the Marshals. They’ll have jurisdiction on this.”
This turned out to be a brutal massacre unlike anything Coen had ever set eyes on before, and that was saying a lot with what he witnessed during his combat tours. His stomach rolled before he steeled himself to really see who or what had been left behind.
Simone Gilpin was laying on the bed without a strip of clothing on, staring sightlessly up toward the ceiling. Duct tape covered her mouth. The amount of deep cuts, holes, and puncture wounds on her body were nearly countless. The method in which she died was incomprehensible, yet the date of her death was carved into her upper body as a reminder to all.
The magnitude of the work that would be required to perform this amount of damage had Coen looking over his shoulder. There was no doubt that this was Moss’ handiwork. He must have left minutes before their arrival on the front porch. It was more than apparent by the rivulets of blood still flowing toward the mattress that she’d drawn her last breath recently. There was no saving her with the amount of damage done.
Shepherd Moss had made his second move, and Simone Gilpin had paid the price for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Diminished by her situation, unarmed and vulnerable to an experienced killer, she’d been taken prisoner. The subsequent torture afflicted on her was inhumane. That thought alone had Coen’s knees almost buckling, because Simone hadn’t been Moss’ intended target here.
Brettany Lambert had been on his list, and by random happenstance, she’d been someone else’s target. In his own twisted way, Chad Perkins had actually saved Brettany’s life from the other monster in the shadows.
“We were on the right track all along,” Coen muttered in disbelief, running a hand over his face and wishing he could erase the scene in front of him. “He was going to make another statement.”
“He did make another statement. I’m the one who hired this woman.” Calvert holstered his weapon and the only indication that the slaughter he was staring at affected him in any way was the whiteness of the scar along his jawline. “Moss must be getting tired of this game, and he wants his prize.”
Calvert was talking about Shailyn Doyle, the only woman to survive the torture Shepherd Moss bestowed on his victims.
“You’re still not thinking of pulling Doyle out of WITSEC, are you?”
“Moss isn’t giving me a choice, because it’s only a matter of time before he finds her on his own.” Calvert pulled out his phone and turned away from what was left of Simone Gilpin. “He wants to finish what he started, and I’m not going to allow that to happen. He will have no choice but to go through me to get to Shailyn Doyle, and that’s going to be Moss’ ultimate downfall.”
~ The End ~
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The ominous knock on the front door in the middle of the night should have given Shailyn Doyle fair warning, but she answered it despite her palpable fear. Her past had finally come back to haunt her. It would be nothing more than her worst nightmares come to life.
Townes Calvert had been given a brief glimpse of nirvana before having it ripped from his grasp. He now has a chance to reclaim what was taken from him, but he must first hunt down the man responsible for murdering eighteen women and risk all that he loves.
Townes and Shailyn have no choice but to play a sadistic serial killer’s twisted game in their search to reclaim the love they had once been forced to sacrifice. They both have envisioned what could be…but will they end up with nothing more than deadly premonitions?