Chapter 26 #2
“Don’t look at me,” Jake replied coolly. “I’m not going to stop him. If that was me, I’d already be choking the life out of that moron Carl for uncuffing that bastard in the first place.”
Mac held his hands up, trying to pacify Theo.
“Look, he took your woman, I get it. Under the circumstances, I’d feel the same way too, but just think for a second.
If he wanted her dead, he’d have simply killed her in the parking garage and left her body there.
He took her because he needs her for some reason, which means there’s a good chance she’s still alive. ”
“He has a point.” Jake turned to Theo. “Walcott’s obsessed with her father, and we know for a fact Charles Connell has been watching her. What’s the betting Walcott knows it too?”
Mac glanced between Theo and Jake. “Look, I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, but I want her back safely as much as you do, and I can’t do that if I don’t have all the information. So, for God’s sake, someone fill me in, will you?”
“Why?” Theo snapped.
“Why do I want you to fill me in?” Mac frowned.
“Why do you want her back safe?” Theo asked, his dark eyes blazing.
“Because I was there.” He sighed. “The night her father fled with her to Philadelphia, I was one of the officers on duty. I was the one who held her while she watched her father being taken away in cuffs, ranting about demons and devil’s traps.”
Theo and Jake exchanged a sharp look.
“She was this tiny, beautiful dark-haired child with sad eyes the color of single malt whiskey, her clothes covered in her mother’s blood and clutching onto her dog as if her life depended on it.
” Mac shook his head. “She got to me. I used to check in on her while she was in Philly. When she was moved by child services, I lost her for a while, but I picked her up again when she turned eleven. By then she didn’t remember me, so I kept my distance, but I kept tabs on her to make sure she was okay until she turned eighteen.
Even though she doesn’t know it, I look in on her every couple of years.
If I’d known what was going on since she came back to Mercy, you can bet your ass I would have done something about that lunatic Walcott long before now. ”
Theo glanced at Jake, who nodded in silent agreement.
“Thomas Walcott and Charles Connell used to be best friends back in the day,” Jake told him. “They came up through school together with another guy by the name of James Talbot.”
“James Talbot?” Mac frowned. “Wasn’t he one of the original victims?”
“Yes, he was,” Jake replied in surprise. “The three of them were tight, like brothers, well, except for Walcott and Talbot. They had a relationship of a different nature.”
Mac stared at Jake.
“They were lovers,” Theo answered for him, seeing how hard it was for Jake to tell the other man’s secret despite everything Walcott had done.
“I see,” Mac murmured.
“Olivia’s dad was the only other person who knew about them.
After James Talbot was killed, Walcott was convinced Connell was the murderer and that the killings only stopped because of his arrest,” Jake continued.
“Walcott knew Connell for years. He can read the man, so if he’s going after the man he believes killed his lover—”
“He’s using Olivia as bait,” Mac cut in. “He will have figured out Connell is watching her. The question is, where would he take her?”
“We need to run all his addresses, any properties he owns or is connected to.” Jake nodded.
“Okay, let’s move.” Mac scratched his stubble thoughtfully. “We don’t know how much time we’ve got.”
* * *
Olivia swam through layers of fogginess, trying to regain consciousness.
Her vision faded in and out of focus as she lifted her head with tremendous effort, aware that she could hear a clicking sound.
Looking across the cramped room, she could vaguely make out Walcott sitting on the bed, waiting and impatiently cocking and uncocking the hammer on his gun.
He looked up in surprise as he caught Olivia looking at him through slightly unfocused eyes. He stood abruptly and headed back to the table behind her where the small half-filled vial and syringe lay.
“I thought you’d be out for longer,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Maybe you need a larger dose.”
Something about what he said triggered a thought.
The drug was spread throughout her body via her blood.
She already knew her body ran at a higher temperature due to her magic, so what if that was why the dose was wearing off so quickly?
If she could focus enough to use her magic, she could raise her body temperature higher, forcing her heart to work faster.
If she could speed up her metabolism, burning the drug out of her system quicker, she might stand a chance.
“No,” she slurred.
He once again grabbed her hair and yanked her head to the side, ready to plunge the needle into her neck. She turned and sank her teeth viciously into his hand, drawing blood.
“You bitch,” he hissed, pulling back his fist and punching her in anger.
Olivia felt rather than heard the cracking sound her cheekbone made and could almost see her cheek swelling from the corner of her eye. He grabbed her hair, yanking her back harder than before and jammed the needle into her neck, causing her to cry out in pain.
* * *
“Nothing.” Jake smashed his hand against the desk in frustration as his search came up empty again.
“What?” Theo stopped pacing and stared at him.
“We’ve run every search we can think of, but he only has one address listed, and we’ve already got a team over there waiting in case he shows. But he’s not stupid enough to turn up at his own house.”
“Have you tried his grandmama’s place?” Ada Bradley wandered in and dropped a tray of coffees onto the desk. “I seem to recall her having a cabin out on the lake somewhere, maybe he still owns it.”
Jake looked up at the elderly desk clerk and sighed. “We’ve already checked, there’s nothing listed under Walcott.”
“This was before she married the chief’s granddaddy. Being a Creole, her name was Bachelier back then.”
Jake tapped a few more keys and still came up blank. “There’s nothing under Clare Bachelier.” He shook his head.
“Well, no, there wouldn’t be. Her name was Clea Bachelier. Chief’s granddaddy made her change it when they got married. He thought Clare was more appropriate.”
Jake tapped a few more keys and fist-pumped the air.
“Mrs. Bradley, I could kiss you.” He jumped up and grabbed his jacket. “The Bachelier place is on the northwest bank of the lake. I’ve got the address.”
“Let’s go then.” Mac nodded, and both he and Theo followed Jake from the room.
* * *
Olivia tried to raise her head, but it just bobbed on her neck as her eyes rolled back. She fought to stay awake, but he must have given her a pretty big dose of whatever was in that vial. She could feel herself slipping, and she knew she didn’t have long.
The sudden smell of the forest filled her nostrils and she breathed deeply. It was a sharp, clean smell, like the scent of the trees after heavy rain. For a brief second, the fog in her mind lifted, and she felt someone lean in close and whisper in her ear.
“You know what you have to do.”
Just as quickly as they had come, the feeling and the voice were gone. The heaviness returned, and her heart pumped sluggishly. She did know what she needed to do, she had to burn the drug out of her blood. Even now, she could feel it pumping through her veins like poison.
Allowing her eyes to close, she reached down to where her magic pulsed. It beat within her breast like a tiny second heart, pulsing with heat and light. She reached for it, but it seemed to be surrounded by a dark, wraith-like smog.
She reached for it again, but the darkness enveloped the bright strands of gold and red.
Anger began to burn inside her, and the more she fed her fury, the brighter her fire pulsed.
She focused on the pain, the unfairness, on everything that had happened to her since she’d come back to Mercy, and the ball of light grew.
She grasped onto it with everything she had, and the ball burst into bright flames.
Strands of yellow, gold, and red snaked through her veins like tentacles, burning the blackness as it went.
Olivia could feel her heart pounding in her chest, in her throat, in her ears.
Her whole body felt like it was on fire as sweat poured from her, drenching her hair and making her clothes cling to her damp skin.
Her mind cleared, and her eyes focused sharply on Walcott.
He had his back to her and was once again staring out of the window.
The door to the cabin suddenly burst open. Walcott spun around, raising his weapon, and training it on the open doorway as he inched closer to Olivia. Charles Connell strode through the door with all the concern of a man out for a Sunday stroll.
“Chief Walcott,” he spoke calmly. “You do like to do things the hard way, don’t you?”
His eyes dropped to his daughter, who was taped to a chair, her swollen face bleeding and dripping onto a police issue jacket several sizes too big for her.
“Tommy, Tommy,” he tutted slowly, shaking his head. “I believe I made it very clear what would happen to you if you went after my daughter.”
“I’m not scared of you, Charlie,” he growled, aiming his gun at him, and pulling the mojo bag from under his shirt, clenching it in his fist. “You can’t use your magic on me this time.”
“I’ve no need to waste my magic on you. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to, besides…” His smile was cold. “I didn’t come alone.”
Walcott suddenly felt the barrel of a gun pressed firmly to the back of his head.
His eyes widened as he glanced across to the old shabby mirror on the opposite wall.
It was cracked in one corner, and it needed re-silvering, but he could still make out the tall, slim, white-haired man behind him.
Where the hell had he come from? There was only one door, and he was facing it.
“Put the gun down, Tommy,” Charles told him firmly.
“I could still kill you, and I really don’t care if I die.”
“I believe you, but believe me when I tell you Davis will have a bullet lodged in your brain before you can even pull the trigger, and I will walk out of here with my daughter.” His voice was low and menacing. “I win... you lose.”
“You son of a bitch,” he growled as he lowered his weapon, and it clattered harmlessly to the floor.
“So I’ve been told.”
He glanced over Walcott’s shoulder with the barest nod of his head, and Davis smashed the butt of the gun down, knocking Walcott out cold.
Charles moved closer to Olivia and crouched in front of her. Slowly and carefully, he moved a lock of damp, matted hair from her eyes, taking in the injuries to her face.
Olivia watched him silently, her eyes clouding with pain and confusion as she looked into the eyes of a man she hadn’t spoken to in over twenty years.
“Daddy?” Her voice was a croaky whisper.
“Hey, Jellybean.” He smiled softly as he stroked the line of her nose the way he used to when she was a child, causing her heart to clench painfully and her eyes to blur with tears.
She shook her head and pulled away from his touch as if it burned. “Why? Tell me why?”
He pulled back and the glimpse of her father was gone. A much colder version stood in his place.
“Why what?” His head tilted slightly. “Why did your mother have to die? Or why did all those men have to die?”
Her mouth fell open at the callous disregard with which he spoke of them all. “Did you feel anything when you killed them?” she whispered.
His gaze flickered. “You were too young to understand at the time, but you will understand soon enough.”
“Understand what? That you only kept me alive because you needed my blood to unlock the devil’s trap?”
That got a reaction from him, his eyes flared, and he took a step back.
“Charles”—Davis turned from the window—“we’ve got company.”
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You will understand, and I’m sorry but there is no other way,” he whispered. “Some things you have to see for yourself.”
She pulled back and stared into his eyes.
“Charles,” Davis called again more urgently.
Suddenly Olivia felt a sharp scratch at her neck, and once again, everything went dark.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Charles turned to look at Davis as he placed the syringe down on the table.
“They are tracking Walcott, and we can’t have her telling them we were here. By the time she wakes up, we’ll be long gone.”
Charles looked back down at Olivia.
“Charles.” Davis grabbed his arm. “We’ve come too far to stop now. We’re so close, and we have to see this through.”
Charles nodded as he turned to pick Walcott’s gun up off the floor. Flipping open the barrel, he dropped the bullets into his palm along with the round in the chamber and shoved them into his pocket before dropping the gun to the floor.
“Ready?” Davis asked.
Charles nodded as Davis placed a hand on his shoulder, and once again, Charles felt that curious sensation of weightlessness. With one final look at each other, they walked straight through the back wall of the cabin as if it was as insubstantial as mist and disappeared into the woods.
Thomas Walcott opened his eyes groggily and pushed himself to his knees, shaking his head.
The sound of sirens blared close by. He hauled himself to his feet and grabbed the gun he’d dropped.
He saw Olivia still strapped to the chair, unconscious, but as he spun around, he realized he was alone.
Charles was gone, he’d slipped through his fingers again.
He roared in anger, then aiming at Olivia, he pulled the trigger several times.
Nothing happened. Throwing the gun in fury, he heard it smash through a pane of glass. The sound of the sirens was getting louder and knowing he didn’t have time to do anything about the unconscious woman, he yanked open the door and disappeared into the woods.