Partners: Beyond The Shadows Read online

  The notion that Fellows could have been posing as a police officer had never occurred to her, but now made perfect sense. His victims, of course, would trust a cop, so naturally they’d let him in. He'd probably blended right in with the officers sent to protect the victims and no one had been the wiser. She, herself, had felt relieved when she'd seen him standing on her porch and had welcomed him inside with open arms. What a fool she'd been. She had to stop chastising herself and continue focusing on ways to stall him if she couldn't figure out a way to take him down.

  She glanced at him and wondered how he thought this would end. He had to know that eventually he would be caught. Even if he wasn't, for the rest of his life he'd always be looking over his shoulder. But why did he write that letter to his cellmate? If he hadn't, it may have taken a long time before a connection to him was made. Or maybe no one would have made the connection. She wanted to ask him, but decided her best bet was to keep her mouth shut, at least for now. Maybe she could figure out a way to escape. She eyed the door. He'd bolted it. Even if she ran to it, she'd never get it unlocked before he was on her again. Her head and arm were still throbbing and now her back hurt so badly she doubted she could walk quickly, let alone run even if she did manage to escape.

  How had he pulled this off? He must have an accomplice somewhere. He obviously hadn't been able to secure any weapons with his record. And someone had to be funding him in order for him to have a vehicle and cash to travel around the country. She was surprised he hadn't taken his gun out of his holster, but it remained intact secured around his small waist. She knew it would only take him a second to yank it out and shoot her.

  She drew a shuddering breath. What was taking Frankie and Kate so long? At least she knew he hadn't harmed them or he wouldn't be waiting for Frankie to come to the house. But what was holding them up? The waiting was unnerving. Every second felt like an hour. She forced her brain to come up with some kind of a plan of escape. There had to be something she could do. She wondered if she could rush him and get his gun. If she did and failed, she'd be dead before she could draw another breath. Mentally she scolded herself. In her present condition, she was lucky she could even move. The pain in her head intensified.

  Sirens wailed faintly in the distance. In order to hear them up here, there must have been several. One or two cars would never be heard up here. Her heart thudded. The police were here! It would only be a matter of time now before they rushed the house. It gave her a glimmer of hope that she may just survive this nightmare intact. What would Fellows do? Certainly he'd heard them.

  She watched as Fellows turned jerkily toward the door. He frowned then turned back to her. “Do you have any buildings out back?”

  “We have an unattached garage.” Was he planning to hide in the garage with her and open fire as they arrived at the house? She wondered if he had more weapons than the gun at his side.

  “What else? A tool shed or something?”

  “Yes. We have a small shed where we store gardening supplies.” The tool shed was set back a short distance behind the house. No one would expect they'd be there. But, then, Fellows wouldn't have a view of them either if they came storming to the front of the house. But the tool shed was filled with all of her gardening supplies. Maybe she could find something to use as a weapon.

  “Let's go,” Fellows snarled as he pulled Johanna's arm. He nodded toward the living room as he pulled the gun from his holster. “Don't even think about trying anything,” he said as he placed the gun next to Johanna's temple. “I'm not afraid to shoot.”

  Her legs wobbled as she slowly and painfully made her way through the house. As they entered the kitchen, she realized that the security panel was on the other side of Fellows out of her reach. With the gun pointed at her head and Fellows holding tightly to her arm, there was no way she could get to it. Her cell phone rang. She looked at the counter where she'd left it. The ringing didn't seem to bother Fellows. She hesitated.

  He gave her a hard shove. “Get going!”

  She glanced at her phone. “If I don't answer, the caller will send someone up here.”

  Fellows laughed. “For a private investigator you're not too bright, are you?”

  Johanna knew her reasoning was ridiculous, but for lack of a quick reasonable response, at this point she'd try anything. If she could convince him to stay in the house she'd have a better chance. Could she make a run for it once they got outside? No matter how badly her body ached she had to try. She had to think fast. She knew every inch of the property they'd cleared, but Fellows didn't. She wished she had her gun.

  She saw him eye the knives in the knife rack as they passed through the kitchen. By his expression, he obviously enjoyed carving up his chosen victims, watching them suffer a slow agonizing death. Anyone else who got in his way he'd shoot.

  “Open the door!” Fellows demanded after they'd made their way through the kitchen and to the back room.

  Chapter 16

  Frankie stopped long enough to draw some air into her lungs. She glanced over her shoulder. The four officers told to keep an eye on her were in hot pursuit. She placed her hands on her hips, bent for a few seconds, and then straightened. She had to get to the house. Johanna's life was in danger. She knew that now. The feeling that something horrific was going to happen loomed over her like a huge black cloud sucking her in. She started to run when she felt two large hands on her shoulders.

  “Where do you think you're going?” one of the officers asked.

  “I…have to get to Johanna,” she panted. “Please let me go. I promise not to interfere.”

  The officer looked sympathetically at her. “Look, if it were up to me I'd let you. But we're sworn to follow all orders and Sheriff Ryker gave us the order to not let you go to the house.”

  Frankie looked into the officer's eyes. She saw the sympathy there. “Please call George. Let me talk to him. I have to know what's going on at my house.”

  “We already did. Someone's driving him back down.”

  She nodded. “Did he say anything about Johanna?”

  “I don't have any details,” he responded.

  She studied the officer's features as she waited for George. He was young, maybe late twenties. He had a plain looking face, a long bony nose, and curly blond hair. But her senses immediately tuned in to the compassion in his gray eyes. “What was in the trunk of the car? Anything interesting?”

  Before he could respond, a cruiser came down the driveway and halted near the group. George jumped out of the car and over to Frankie.

  Frankie knew by the quick determined steps he took that he was livid. When he stood face to face with her, there was no doubt in her mind that she was in for a dressing down. But at this point she couldn't care less.

  “Dammit, Frankie, what the hell are you doing?”

  Frankie had to convince him to let her go to the house. It wouldn't be easy. His jaw was set as he glared at her. “What's going on at the house?” Her voice wobbled. “Is Johanna okay? Please tell me, George.” Tears filled her eyes as she began to tremble, losing all resolve. “I have a right to know.”

  George's demeanor softened. He rubbed his jaw. “I don't know, Frankie. The house is surrounded. We think he's got her inside. We called to him, but got no response.”

  A pain shot through Frankie's heart. “Have units been sent inside?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  George eyed her. “Frankie, you know as well as I do that if he's taken Johanna hostage we can't go in with guns blazing. We have to think of her safety.”

  “But you don't even know if he's in there. He could have done something and took off. If he's in uniform then it was easy for him to slip away. She could be lying there injured while everyone is standing around waiting.”

  “I don't think so. He's not going to come this far and take off without doing what he set out to do.” His eyes slanted. “He wants you, Frankie.”

  “Well, where is his accompli
ce? Or is she just the driver?” She frowned. “Were there any clues under that tarp in the trunk? They were pulling it off when I left. I heard an officer call out, but didn't stick around to hear what he said.”

  George inhaled sharply. “His accomplice's body was under the tarp. He'd carved her up in the same way he'd done to his other victims.” He grunted. “She must have meant something special to him since it seems he only carves those who he feels an intimate connection to.”

  “Oh my God! Why?” Frankie's hand flew to her mouth. “Please, George, let me go to the house.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “It's me he wants. You said so yourself. Offer me in exchange for Johanna.”

  George placed his large hands on her shoulders. “Frankie, listen to me. We're not about to sacrifice you. We don't even know how many weapons he has on him.” He continued to stare at her. “Look, if I personally take you up to the house I want your word that you stand back and let us do our job.” His eyes bore into hers. “I want your word.”

  “Yes,” she replied weakly. “He better not have done anything to her.” Her stomach churned. The foreboding grew stronger. He had Johanna. Of that she was certain. She'd never forgive herself if anything happened to her. She'd been careless running off half-cocked and for what? Had she seriously thought she could bring that monster down by herself? The image of Johanna's tear stained face pleading with her not to go filled her mind. Tears choked her throat. “Please, George, let's hurry!”

  * * * *

  “Go!” Fellows demanded. “Quit wasting my fucking time. Where the hell is this tool shed?”

  Johanna stumbled through the dark. “Over there,” she said pointing to a medium sized building.

  “I thought you said it was a tool shed. It's the size of a fucking garage,” he fumed. “You better not be trying to pull a fast one.”

  Johanna didn't respond. A quick poke in her ribs and a palm against her back propelling her forward told her he was losing patience. Her body was in such pain she could barely put one foot in front of the other. She had to suck it up and focus on anything but the excruciating pain she was in.

  He pulled the tool shed door open and pushed her inside. He grabbed a flashlight from his pocket and shined it around.

  As he did, Johanna quickly surveyed the area wondering what she could grab quickly to use as a weapon against him if the opportunity arose. She'd thought Frankie and Kate would have returned by now. She knew there had been sirens in the distance. She hadn't imagined it…or had she? Were they going somewhere else and not coming here? Her head was throbbing so violently that she was physically sick to her stomach and she was losing touch with what was real or not. But she couldn't give up. She bit down on her bottom lip. Possibly the authorities were organizing their plan of attack. That gave her hope. A swat team would most likely be coming at any time. But how would that help her?

  Once the house was searched and she wasn't found things would change rapidly. A hostage situation would stall the operation while they decided the best tactic to take. As a former police officer, she'd seen those types of situations go both ways. In a perfect world, the perp released the hostage and surrendered. But in too many cases she'd seen the perp kill the innocent victim and then kill himself rather than giving himself up to the police.

  As she waited to see what Fellows’ next move would be, she silently questioned what he planned to do when faced with the fact that he had nowhere to run. Would he kill her and then himself before the police stormed the shed or would he, with guns blazing, make a mad dash through the police lines and die in a swirl of gunfire? She doubted he'd let her go no matter what. Even if he managed to get to Frankie, he still wouldn't let her go. If he couldn't get to Frankie and realized there were no more options it would be easy for him to kill Johanna knowing he'd cause Frankie the worst suffering she could imagine. She steeled herself against the pain. She needed to force her mind above the pain. If she could keep a clear head she might be able to at least save Frankie's life. And saving Frankie's life was all that mattered to her right now.

  Fellows found a small cramped space towards the back of the tool shed. He shoved her roughly, and then forced her to her knees. He set his flashlight on a carton facing them. He kept the gun to her head as he lifted up a pant leg and removed a long knife.

  Johanna's eyes widened as she saw the length of the blade, but worse the blood still evident on it. He'd recently used it. Dizziness overtook her as she realized he'd murdered the police officers sent to guard the front gate. She gagged as bile rose in her throat, almost choking her. She glanced around the small cramped space. There were several cartons in front of them that she assumed he'd try to use as a shield if they came storming in. Her eyes fell on a hoe and pick-ax hanging on the wall a few feet from where they were crouched down. She quickly looked away so he wouldn't see what she was looking at. Even if he did kill her, she wanted to severely wound him first. Then if he was lucky enough to live, she hoped he'd have a permanent injury that would be a constant reminder to him for the rest of his miserable life.

  Fellows put his mouth close to her ear. “Try anything, bitch, and I'll kill you right now. Do as I say and I'll let you see your girlfriend one last time so you can say your goodbyes,” he hissed.

  His foul breath gagged her, but she needed to keep him talking. She had nothing to lose at this point. Maybe she could distract him long enough to grab the pick-ax. She'd have to do it quickly. But could she? From her current position she didn't see how she could reach either the hoe or the pick-ax. Her thoughts drifted to Frankie. She needed to garner some of Frankie's strength. She gritted her teeth while she waited for Fellows’ next move. She couldn't bear the thought of knowing he planned to torture and then kill the woman she loved, just as she couldn't bear the thought of Frankie having to sit and watch her murder. Just to hold her again, just to feel her heartbeat next to her own. She tried to hold back the tears.

  Fellows wanted to see her fear. He got off on fear, but that's one thing she'd never give him the pleasure of seeing. Strangely it wasn't fear she was feeling right now. The emotions running through her were of loss. The loss of the years Frankie and she wouldn't have together. The loss of growing old together. The loss of everything they'd worked together for. In one second a monster could tear it all away. In the blink of an eye one's life could be drastically altered. As she fought back the tears, she realized that she didn't give a damn about Fellows’ reasoning for why he was doing this. None of it mattered. She didn't need the answers. He was a sick, perverted piece of garbage. Was this her day to die? Was this Frankie's day to die? She'd always heard that when your number was up there was nothing you could do to alter the outcome. If that was true, she didn't intend to go without putting up a struggle. She'd be kicking and fighting all the way. And she'd be damned that Fellows was going to be the one to say when her life ended. A surge of survival instincts began to kick in. She'd overcome the intense pain. She'd force her mind to shove the pain back.

  She took a deep breath. She wouldn't play into Fellows’ hands. She'd never let him see her fear. No, she'd be strong. She felt dizzy again. The pain was becoming almost unbearable as she forced herself to bear it.

  “You know, Fellows, I can't wait to see you taken down. I want to watch you take your last agonizing breath before you go straight to hell.”

  He turned his head, then brought his hand up, and slapped her hard with the back of his hand. “Shut that fucking mouth of yours or when Frankie finally finds you all she'll find is your corpse!” he snarled. His nostrils flared as he glared at her. “Shut up while I think!”

  She tasted blood on her lips. Her head felt like it would explode but she had to garner every ounce of strength she possessed to fight him. “You'll never get away with this.” She kept her mind focused on Frankie as she talked. The thought of Frankie gave her the strength she needed to fight. This monster had no right to decide he had any power over her. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and fought through the pain a
s she calculated how she could grab either the hoe or the pick-ax, then decided her weapon of choice was the pick-ax since it would do more damage. She would only have a split second to grab it and swing it at him. It was a chance she had to take. He'd either pull the trigger blowing her brains out the moment she lunged for it, or if she was lucky, she could grab it and knock the gun out of his hand with a good swing before he had a chance to retrieve the gun or pick up the knife he'd set in front of him on a crate. She eyed the long sharp blade on the knife and her blood ran cold.

  The sudden sound of footsteps shuffling around outside of the tool shed made her heart pound. Fellows slightly turned his head. He'd heard it, too. His body stiffened. Help was here! She thought she heard muffled voices. She had to take a chance. “Frankie, in here!” she shouted, disobeying his warning. She squeezed her eyes shut as she wondered when he'd thrust the knife into her.

  “I told you to shut the fuck up!” he snarled as he clamped a large sweaty palm over her mouth. “You have trouble listening and now you'll pay the price.”

  She dug her fingernails into the side of his face clawing him with all her strength as she tried to make him remove his dirty, sweaty hand from her mouth.

  He yelped and dropped his hand rubbing his jaw. “Stupid bitch!” He picked up his knife and swung it wildly. It caught the edge of Johanna's shoulder before moving down and slicing clean through a garden hose. Johanna choked with fear. She had no time to lose. One perfectly aimed mark either from the gun or knife would end her life in a heartbeat. Did she dare scream again or had they heard her? She gasped for air as she once again eyed the pick-ax.

  * * * *

  Frankie ran to the back of the house, spied Kate, and rushed over to her. “What's going on?”