Patricia Rosemoor: Skin

Abandoned.

“What are we waiting for?” Wyndham asked.

“Keep your shorts on.” He nodded to the car pulling up behind his. A patrol car was coming down the street. And he could see a second patrol car turning in from the main artery. “That’s what I was waiting for. Backup.”

DeSalvo was out of his car before the squad pulled up. “What’s the plan?”

“We circle the building, don’t leave an opening in case he’s still inside. I want the others in place near any other doors before we go in.”

“I’m going with you,” Wyndham said.

“You’re staying out here at the curb until I say otherwise.”

“But Lilith–”

“Is in better hands than yours for the moment. You make a wrong move, and she’s dead.”

“Yeah, okay.” Wyndham stepped down.

Pucinski figured he’d been watching too many movies with average Joes turning into heroes. Real life didn’t work like that.

Seconds later, Pucinski was surrounded by officers and gave them their orders. Then with a last glance at a very frustrated Wyndham who stood sour-faced at the curb as ordered, he and DeSalvo headed down the drive alongside the building. They found a door with a metal hasp and lock.

“I’m gonna bet this lock in place means he’s already long gone,” Pucinski said in a low voice.

The lock was rusty, and Pucinski broke it open with the butt of his flashlight. Guns and lights aimed together with two hands, he and DeSalvo went inside. Steps just inside led downward to the basement.

His gut knotting, Pucinski stopped for a minute to collect himself. He’d seen all kinds of things working homicide. For once he was hoping for something better than he expected.

“What are we waiting for?” DeSalvo was practically on top of him, agitating to get down there.

A faint light shone from below.

Did that mean O’Malley was still down there, after all?

Snapping off his flashlight, Pucinski nodded to the younger cop to do the same and then moved. Adrenaline shooting through him, he had to hold himself back from running to the basement, gun blazing. He carefully took the last steps and looked around.

A girl handcuffed to a radiator turned his way, looking frightened through a swollen mask of bruises and blood. The way she was dressed, this had to be Carmen, but he didn’t think even her parents would recognize the poor kid the way she looked now.

He put a finger to his lips but she cried, “Not ’ere! Took Lilith, an’ I think ’e’s going to kill ’er!”

“Unlock that handcuff,” he told DeSalvo as he went to the girl who lay so freaking still on the cot.

Hannah. He couldn’t see the resemblance to her sister through the ravages of a brutal beating, but she had the same long, dark hair and was wearing what was left of a too-tight, too-short dress. Checking to make sure she still had a pulse, a small part of him was relieved. He retrieved his own handcuff key and unlocked her constraint, then pulled out his cell and called for an ambulance.

Carmen limped to the cot. One look at Hannah and she started to sob. “My fault she’s ’urt.” Her voice slurred from her injuries. “I thought we could take ’im.”

Shaking his head, Pucinski rose and almost put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her before realizing she might be hurt there, too. “None of this is your fault, Carmen. The bastard who did this to you girls — he’s gonna pay. And that’s a promise I can keep.”

His mind was spinning, already making connections, telling him where to find O’Malley. He hoped to God he could get there before the bastard did the Mitchell woman.

“I’m leaving you in charge, DeSalvo. You stay with them until the paramedics get here. I want you at the hospital. Get the girl’s statement.”

“Yeah, sure. Where are you going?”

“To bring down a murderer.”

Once outside, he told one of the uniformed officers what was going on. Told him and his partner to stay with DeSalvo. Told the other team to follow.

“Where’s Lilith?” Wyndham demanded. “She’s not dead?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. Get in.”

Wyndham didn’t even have his door closed when Pucinski ripped his car away from the abandoned building. The patrol car was right behind him.

“Where the hell are we going?”

“Where they found the first two women,” Pucinski said. “Forest preserve. My gut tells me that’s where we’ll find the Mitchell wom… where we’ll find Lilith.”

This was personal now. This was someone he knew despite trying not to. Someone who’d put herself on the line for others, as foolish as that had been. He’d tried to warn her, to convince her how dangerous it was to challenge a killer. She simply hadn’t listened.

Guilt and who knew what else drove Lilith Mitchell.

He didn’t want to think of where that had landed her now.

THROWN ACROSS the backseat. Hands cuffed behind her back. Feet trussed together. Gag in her mouth.

Lids fluttering as she tried to focus, Lilith saw Gabe’s dark form in the driver’s seat. Gradually, her mind cleared, and she realized what was happening. She struggled to free herself but could barely move. Horrified, she realized she was as helpless as the others must have been before he hunted them.

And as terrified.

The car pulled off the main road and then the road altogether. Uneven ground below made the vehicle buck and twist.

A moment later, it stopped.

An armed Gabe pulled Lilith from the backseat by her hair. She screamed through her gag and thrashed wildly. Though she was nearly upside down, he jerked her even harder so she fell.

“Fighting will only make it worse.”

She wouldn’t give in to fear. She wouldn’t . As long as she didn’t give in, she had a chance.

Gabe righted Lilith, his free hand all over her as she got to her feet. He squeezed her flesh cruelly so that she had to bite back a cry. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Removing the gag and freeing her hands, he stepped around her, motioned to the rope tying her legs.

“Do it!” He pointed the rifle at her.

Wishing she’d come to earlier so she would have had time to think, to plan, Lilith worked on the ropes, while darting her gaze from him to the surrounding dark. She was looking for opportunity, waiting for the moment she could either run or strike back.

She couldn’t give in. She wouldn’t

“Don’t fuck with me, Lilith. Jennifer fucked with me. Turned me in. My own wife.”

“Did you abuse her, too, Gabe?” Certain he didn’t expect her to challenge him when her life was hanging in the balance, Lilith was equally certain he still had something to prove before killing her. “Did Jennifer finally have enough of your abuse and tell people what you were?”

“She didn’t understand a cop needs a release. Neither of you understands what it’s like, living with violence every day.”

Thinking about those three years under Marlon Aldrich’s fists, Lilith said, “You don’t know a damn thing about what I understand.”

She whipped the rope at him, but he was faster. He ducked and hit her in the chest with the rifle barrel.

“Shut your mouth and start undressing!” He waved the weapon at her.

Lilith’s hands shook as they automatically moved from her stomach to the zipper on her hoodie. That blow tightened her chest so she couldn’t talk. She could hardly get her breath.

Gabe laughed. “Before I’m through, you’ll be begging me for mercy just like the others did.”

Like the others? Certain her being naked would give him the advantage, she stopped her hands from undoing anything. She wasn’t like his other victims. She might be terrified, but she wasn’t weak. She could do this. Beat him at his own game. She took a quick look around. A full moon cast a silver-blue glow over trees and more trees. Her mind furiously computed her odds for escape.