Chapter 29
Jana
It had beenthree days since I’d last seen or heard from anyone, and the four walls of the hellhole I currently called my refuge were starting to close in on me.
I’d killed a total of ten creepy crawlies every day since my arrival, and don’t get me started on the rustling between the walls I keep hearing at all hours of the day—and night. Suffice to say, I was disgusted, a little terrified with what Mother Nature was going to dish up for me next, but I was fed, I was warm, and most of all, I was safe.
But I was alone.
Sure, I had my Kindle, but that sucker had run out of power this morning, and this hunting shack I’d stumbled upon on my attempt to get out of town had no power source. Believe me, I’d looked. And forget about books or old magazines for entertainment. Never mind a generator or even running water—I was lucky I’d found a hand-pump well and a semi-decently clean, albeit dusty bucket to fill so I could stay hydrated and clean up after myself.
As I washed my lunch dishes, consisting of a fork, because I’d eaten beans directly from a can I’d heated up with the help of a small fire. Said fire had been promptly put out once I’d finished cooking. I wasn’t taking any chances that someone discovered my location.
Despite my unorthodox safe haven, dread and worry had grown in the pit of my stomach over the course of time. Call it a sixth sense, but I felt the sudden urge to call home, to check on Mom and Jason.
I still had those two burner phones on me and was currently looking at one of them on the edge of the tiny table I had just deposited my cleaned fork on.
“You’d be lucky if you have reception,” I snorted at the ridiculousness of my reality. “Great. Now look at you…talking to yourself.” I shook my head as I dried my hands on the raggedy hand towel next to the small bowl I was using as a sink and had an epiphany.
As much as this little cabin in the woods had served as a very humble refuge, my favorite part about it was the Adirondack chair that sat on the decrepit covered porch.
Fed and bored out of my skull with nothing but worry for those I loved, I leaned forward and pondered the phone in my hand. A conversation I’d had with Devolin a few weeks prior had come back to me. It had been something about a client who’d relied on her original cell phone’s voicemail to communicate that she was safe. By using a burner, and minimizing the amount of time she spent on it, she had been virtually undetectable, but able to utilize her personal voicemail to leave breadcrumbs to be saved.
A tiny ember of hope took root, and for the first time since that Sunday dinner, I wanted to reach out to my people instead of run from them—just to let them know I was safe.
What I hadn’t expected was the fifty-four messages that greeted me when I’d punched in the pin to my old phone number.
The first three had been old messages I’d saved, regarding a variety of appointments for Mom.
The next was from Devolin, explaining she understood why I’d left, but that no one blamed me for what happened to Rex. She went on to tell me he’d been at the motel that night, been attacked, but he pulled through surgery, and he should make a full recovery. Next, she went as far as to let me know I was stupid if I thought she and Brycen would fail at finding me. She closed with letting me know everyone was worried but hoped I was somewhere safe, and they were doing everything they could to locate my stalker.
Now, more than ever, the news about Rex served to prove that I’d made the right decision to disappear and stay away until everything was resolved.
The next few messages had come from work, asking for a report on how I was doing, wondering when I might end my leave and come back to work.
“What part of being stalked by a serial killer does Steven Saxon not understand?” I asked aloud, the wind in the treetops doing nothing but mocking me in its whispering ways.
The following five messages were delayed hang-ups, where I could barely hear shallow breathing on the other end—something reminiscent of when this psycho first fixated on me—and it gave me the willies. But I saved them until such a time Dev or Brycen was able to analyze them if they hadn’t begun the task already.
The next dozen or so calls were from Mom and Jason, all of them denoting their worry for my safety, ensuring that I knew they loved and missed me, and begging me to come home.
When the next message came on, my breath hitched at the vulnerability in Brycen’s voice.
“Jana, baby…By the time you get this, I hope to God that I finally have you in my arms again. But if by some miracle, you’ve figured out how to get to your voicemail, I need you to know I love you,” he sighed. “Sweetheart, I love you so goddamn much. You’ve been gone for less than twenty-four hours, and the worry is tearing me up inside. Please come home. I love you.”
It had taken me nearly an hour to get through all the messages, simply because I had listened to some of them a few times over before saving them so I could listen to them again later, and then I took a chance and prayed it didn’t blow up in my face.
Brycen
Four days went by without a word or sign of life, and then the alarm on my computer went off about the same time my cell phone chimed with the alert signaling there was activity on Jana’s phone.
Stumbling from the couch in my office, tripping over the assortment of discarded takeout containers and two fifths of Jack I’d killed off that had littered my office floor since Jana had disappeared, I hit the enter key on my keyboard to silence the incessant beeping, and went to work, not quite believing what I was seeing.
Had our messages finally worked?
My cell rang with Devolin’s ringtone, and I was quick to answer, “You’re seeing this, right?” I croaked in way of a greeting.
“I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t.”
“Any news on the labs?” I asked about the DNA located at the scene of Rex’s attack.
“Perp is Carson Platt,” she answered on a snort. “I’m still looking into him and what ties he may have to Jana, and it’ll take me a while because there’s a lot there, but I’ll get what I need, don’t worry, Bryce. I’m sending you what I’ve gotten so far. You should get it before we hang up.”
Realizing she couldn’t see my nod, I said, “’K, thanks.” I gave a quick glance at what Devolin sent over, then asked, “Got it. Do we have a bead on him at least?”
The woman groaned. “Shane said they stopped by his home. No one’s there, but they’ve put a couple of units on his place of residence and work. If he shows, we’ll get him.”
“I want to know as soon as anyone gets anything, Huss,” I growled. “I need her home.”
Devolin sighed. “I know you do. We all do. Now, Kip is on his way into the office, and as much as I know you don’t want to leave the house, I’m not patching you in this time. Do what you have to, check up on the latest off our girl’s phone, then get here.”
Before I could argue, she’d hung up.
I’m safe. I’m close. I-I’m sorry about what happened to Rex. I thought that if I’d left…she sighed. I’ll touch base soon.
It’s all Jana had left us over her voicemail, but it went a long way to assuage my worst fear, which was of her lying in some ditch or dumpster somewhere after this Platt character had managed to get his hands on her.
The moment I set foot in the war room, everyone turned to face me.
“Shit, Bryce, you look like the walking dead,” Theo stated the obvious, albeit with a sympathetic expression. He knew what I was going through, and if I’d taken the time to breathe through the melee of emotions running through me, I’d have remembered that most of us in this room had been through something similar in recent years.
“Have you slept at all?” Tate added with a sympathetic expression, the question filled with hesitant concern more than his typical tongue-in-cheek tone.
“Talk to me about sleeping when you find the love of your fucking life and she goes missing,” I barked, letting myself drop in one of the few remaining conference room chairs, then crossed my arms over my chest. “Can we please get on with anything new so I can go back to?—”
Devolin came rushing into the room, a shit-eating grin on her face. “We’ve got him. JPD received a number of tips where he’s been spotted near Onslow Memorial. One of our sources spoke to him. She called it in as soon as she saw his picture on the news.”
Dalton’s body went rigid as did the rest of ours, concern for our friend and colleague. “Our guy is still on Rex?” he demanded.
Huss confirmed with a single nod, her body vibrating with excited energy. “Called him before rushing in here. All is quiet and he hasn’t seen the perp. He’s sticking close in case it’s why Platt is there to begin with.”
“Right,” Dalton met all our gazes one by one, settling on mine last with a note of determination. “I’m not stopping you from tagging along, but you’re taking a back seat on this one, Matthews. I want everything by the book until Platt’s in custody, got me?”
I tilted my chin up in agreement. “Got you, boss.”
The man gave me a curt nod. “Good.”
“Let’s roll out,” Cade called to our group.
Jana
An hour ago, when I received an encrypted text from Brycen, on an app he’d requested I download through a voicemail he’d left on my original number, it said the NSI team had a suspect thanks to Rex recognizing his attacker’s face—thank God he was okay. Hope bloomed that this whole nightmare would soon be over. The message contained a link to a local news site that had posted his name and picture.
Morbid curiosity urged me to take a look and so I clicked on it—a microscopic image of a man’s face I couldn’t recall popped up, reality hitting me square in the face.
Sure, having a name and a face might help the FBI and local authorities with their case, but it sure as shit didn’t do anything for me.
And then I used that same encryption messaging app to message my brother with the information, again, reiterating I was somewhere safe, that I loved them.
When his response came in, however, informing me Mom had been hospitalized, I panicked.
Thus, it was why I had hitched a ride, thanks to an older lady who’d taken pity on me, then dropped me off at a small gas station at the edge of Jacksonville’s city center.
After having used the facilities to clean myself up, I asked the clerk behind the counter if I could use their landline. Hanging up the phone after having called a taxi, a shudder ran through me when I saw that all-too-haunting face appear on the TV mounted on the wall behind the cashier’s counter.
“Ma’am, you okay?”
My eyes strayed from the television to the woman behind the counter, catching a glimpse of the pale reflection mocking me from one of the drink cooler doors.
“Uh, y-yeah. Yes.” I gave the lady a curt nod, noticing the cab I’d ordered had pulled up. Hurrying toward the station’s door, I turned and forced a smile. “Thanks again for letting me use your phone.”
“Don’t mention it.” The lady studied me from head to toe, and I had a sneaking suspicion she saw more than I wanted her to right then. “Stay safe, you hear?”
Clearing my throat, I nodded once more. “Will do.” I made my retreat, attempting to steel my nerves.
“Where to?” the middle-aged man who sounded like he’d adopted a pack-a-day habit since birth rasped.
“Onslow Memorial Hospital, please.” Refusing to meet his gaze in the rearview mirror, I buckled up and kept watch on the passing scenery.
A chirp from my back pocket had me reaching for the burner I’d stuffed in my jeans so I could easily access it, finding another text from my brother.
Jay:
Where the fuck are you?
Chewing on my thumbnail, I pondered if I should respond or merely show up? I felt more comfortable with no one knowing my whereabouts, but this was my brother.
I’m on my way. Tell Mom I love her. Love you.
Jason then texted back with the room number.
It took the cab forty minutes to get to Onslow, and I paid the driver with some of the cash I had withdrawn when I first set out to disappear.
Knowing this place like the back of my hand from having worked a mere four years here as a nurse, before calling it quits due to too many losses, it wasn’t too hard to navigate through the throngs of people and families in the emergency department.
Taking a quick glance around, I snuck into the stairwell entry, and headed for the fifth floor meant for admitted patients.
Hoofing it up to the fifth had me huffing and puffing, swearing to myself that once this was all over, I’d revisit the idea of making use of my local gym’s Stairmaster. I haven’t felt this out of shape since my first week here as a nurse.
Collecting myself, I took a deep breath and pulled on the door, giving a cursory glance at both ends of the halls. Heading to the left, according to the directional signs indicating which rooms were located down which hall, I attempted to shake off the ever-present sensation that someone was watching me.
Just as I turned to peer over my shoulder, a hand covered my mouth and nose, and I was violently pulled back into a dark room, held against a solid chest.
“Ah-ah-ah,” the clearly male voice chided me at the same time I felt the coolness of something sharp near my jugular, paralyzing me with terror. “We wouldn’t want to ruin this moment, would we?” He removed the hand that covered my mouth, circling it around my stomach.
“P-platt,” I stutter-whispered, attempting to figure out where we were. I couldn’t see much of anything for fear of his blade slicing into my neck if I turned my head, so I stood still.
His breath was warm at the side of my face, vile smelling, and when he rubbed his cheek against mine, pressing his torso into my ass, my stomach nearly revolted then and there.
“Got it in one go, sweetheart,” he chuckled lowly. “Now, be a good girl and maybe I won’t kill you like I did the others.”