Chapter
Fifteen

Although Bobby was obviously trying to keep his vehicle steady, the paved roads were beginning to deteriorate. Pot-holes and uneven asphalt created a bumpy ride. Tony held on to the hand grip over his window while keeping his other hand on the dashboard.

Tony suddenly realized they were chasing a car he hadn’t seen. “Describe the car you saw, Bobby. We need to be watching for it.”

“Oh, sure. Dark green Toyota Camry. Four-door. Newer model.”

That sounded like the car Tony had seen across the street from the cabin yesterday. He studied Bobby for a moment. “You know your Camrys?”

Bobby smiled his gassy-baby smile. “I like cars. Can’t afford a new one, but I like to look at them.”

“Is there anything else you remember?”

“The man who was driving.” Bobby frowned. “He looked . . . familiar. But I don’t remember where I saw him.” He shook his head, his jowls wiggling a little. “Sorry.”

“Did you ever see a picture of Alan Gerard?”

“Yeah, but it was a long time ago. It’s hard to remember what he looks like after so many years.”

Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket and attempted to bring up the internet, planning to find a photo of Gerard. Unfortunately, he couldn’t pull up anything. His phone didn’t seem to be getting reception. Must be the mountains. He sighed and stuck it back in his jacket pocket. “Great,” he said. “Describe the guy to me.”

“He wore a ball cap, had a beard . . . not a long one, you know. Just short. Blond hair? Oh, and he wore glasses.”

Gerard had dark hair, no beard the last time Tony saw him, and he didn’t wear glasses. Of course, it could very easily be a disguise. He was just about to mention that when Bobby slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road.

“This is the way I told you about,” he said, pointing to a dirt road that disappeared up into the trees. “If the man who has Kate wants to hide from the police, this is the road he would take.”

“Stay here,” Tony said. He got out of the car and walked over to the turnoff. There were car tracks in the dirt, and they looked fresh. Since he hadn’t seen another car for a while, he took that as a sign Gerard actually might have headed this way. He took his phone out of his pocket and checked it again. Still no signal. He was getting ready to disappear into the Ouachita Mountains with a man he didn’t really know—chasing after a serial killer who might have taken this route and might have Kate. And no one had his back. All his years of training screamed at him. This was stupid. One of the dumbest things he’d ever done.

He walked back to the SUV and got in.

“Let’s go,” he said to Bobby.

The car bounced and jolted so much Kate felt bruises forming on her hips and back. She tried to steady herself with her arms, but it was nearly impossible. She prayed that God would tell her when to make her escape. Would Gerard hear the trunk open? Would he see her? Would he chase her? The thoughts in her head bounced around just like the car that jerked her body unmercifully.

Suddenly, Kate heard a large clap of thunder and the loud din of rain. Not just light rain, a deluge. The car slowed in an attempt to deal with the sudden change in the weather, and Kate grabbed the trunk opener. Somewhere inside her head she heard Now! She pulled the lever, and the trunk popped open. The rain poured down on her, making the trunk slippery. She twisted around and pushed herself out, falling onto the soaked ground. Rather than stand up, she scrambled across the mud on all fours and headed for the nearby tree line. She wanted to look back, to see if Gerard was behind her, but fear made her keep going, her eyes focused only on what was ahead.

He was so intent on the road in front of him it took a while for him to notice the trunk was open. He cursed loudly and slammed on the brakes, causing the car to slide sideways. He jammed the car into park and twisted the key, almost breaking it. The rain made everything so much harder. Why was it raining now? His original plan had been perfect. Grab Kate, drive into the mountains, and take her to a secluded spot where they wouldn’t be interrupted. Killing her in town was too risky. Especially now, with Tony DeLuca hanging around. Tony was supposed to be dead, but somehow he’d survived. Now plans had to change again. Was God fighting him? He quickly dismissed the thought. If there really was a supreme being, He would have stopped him by now. Would have struck him with lightning or something. If God could read people’s minds, He knew his plans for Kate O’Brien. And a lot of other women whose lives now had an expiration date. He had to bring back the legend of the Blue-Eyed Killer. It was his destiny. He’d panicked and messed up with Kelly O’Brien. He’d had no idea there were two of them. He’d left Kate for dead, not realizing she was still breathing. He should have checked. Should have finished her off and moved the bodies. He’d never make that mistake again.

He got out of the car, a gun strapped to his chest and a large knife in his jacket pocket. He slammed the car door as hard as he could. His stomach was a hard knot of anger. He’d planned to take Kate somewhere special for their time together, but now she’d betrayed him. He should just kill her wherever he found her. Of course, if he did that, the other part of the plan would fail. He couldn’t have that. Kate O’Brien was a thorn in his side. Somehow he had to get back to his original strategy. He’d make Kate suffer for interfering. Teach her that nothing could stop him. Especially someone chosen as a victim of the Blue-Eyed Killer.

He looked up at the sky, the rain running down his face like tears. Once the deed was done, he’d slip off the mountain unseen and start a new life. He was grateful to the man who’d helped him get out of prison and had planted Ann Barton’s necklace. He’d even called the police in Garden City and directed them toward Malcolm. Poor Malcolm. Too bad he had to die. He’d wanted out. Wanted to walk away from the legend of the Blue-Eyed Killer. Of course, that could never be allowed. What if some day he’d told the truth? He had to be eliminated. All in all, it was for the best. If the Blue-Eyed Killer was going to rise again, it wouldn’t happen through a weak, frightened man like Malcolm. He’d lost the thrill of the hunt. The thirst for blood. Malcolm had paid the ultimate price for his betrayal. Actually, he’d enjoyed slitting Malcolm’s throat. Now he was in first place. Not an apprentice any longer. He was the master.

But right now, he had to concentrate on Kate. He looked around him, trying to see through the heavy rain. She was out there somewhere and he would find her. Then he’d set the record straight.

He cursed her name, squared his shoulders, and took off into the trees.