A beep sounded, then nothing.
Carns reached out with a gloved hand and lifted the receiver. Gently, he placed it on the floor and covered it with a cushion from the couch.
There would be no more distractions.
When Deluca phoned back, his voice sounded strained. “You were right,” he said. “There’s a vault hidden in a hedge that runs all the way to the street. The metal cover was off. We contacted local cab companies. Two hours ago A-1 Taxi picked up somebody at the west gate matching Carns’s description.”
“Two hours ago? And none of our guys at the gate noticed anything?”
“One of the units saw a taxi picking up a jogger but didn’t give it a second thought. We located the cab driver. He said he dropped his fare in an industrial section near Alicia and Fabricante. He thought it was strange, there bein’ no residences down there and all. One of the Orange County deputies thinks there are some self-service garages in that area. Maybe that’s where Carns stashed his cars.”
“Maybe,” I said, feeling my throat tighten. I recalled Berns’s statement regarding the killer’s willingness to strike at anyone he considered a threat. I paused, asking myself what I would do if I were Carns.
A game.
Thrust, parry. Move, countermove.
Suddenly I knew.
“Listen, Dan,” Deluca continued, “I’ve gotta bring Snead in on this. Other people down here know you’ve been calling. I can’t keep you out of it.”
“Do whatever you have to,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”
I hung up and redialed Catheryn’s cell phone. No response. Again I called the beach house. This time the phone was busy. Fighting panic, I dialed the operator, identified myself, and requested an emergency interrupt. What seemed an interminable pause followed as she checked the line.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said at last. “That number is out of order.”
52
Allison heard the intruder moving through the music room downstairs, then the thump of heavy footsteps ascending the stairs-slow and deliberate, definitely those of a man. With a plunge of panic, she slipped from her bed and flipped the comforter over her still-warm covers. She quickly smoothed the bedspread as best she could, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t notice. Without making a sound, she crept into her closet and hid behind a long woolen coat.
She heard the man stop briefly at the top of the stairs, then move to the kitchen, his weight creaking the old floorboards. As if no time had passed in the interim, the paralyzing helplessness she had felt at the hands of another man years before came flooding back.
Can’t let him find me. Out the front door? No time. He’ll be on me before I get it unlocked. The phone in the kitchen? Too far.
Minutes later the beam of a flashlight stabbed into her bedroom. She held her breath as the light swept toward her hiding place… hesitated… and flicked to another part of the room. The intruder moved on. She heard him searching her brothers’ room, then Nate’s former bedroom in the loft above the entry, and finally her parents’ room down the hall. Next he made his way to the living room. She heard a squeak from the couch as he sat, then the clump of feet on the coffee table. Soon another sound drifted through the darkness. At first she couldn’t identify it. Then she had it.
Humming. He’s humming.
Huddled in her closet, Allison swallowed hard, desperately trying to stifle the cough that had plagued her since Christmas. Any sound, even the slightest, would surely reveal her presence.
What time is it? she wondered, forcing her mind from the burning tickle in her throat. Midnight? One o’clock? They’ll be home soon.
She had to warn them.
But how? She dared not move. Even raising her bedroom window and escaping to the street was out of the question. There has to be a way, she thought. I have to do something.
But when she heard Catheryn’s car pull to a stop out front twenty minutes later, she still hadn’t decided on a course of action. Instead, hating herself for her cowardice, she remained hidden, listening with horror as the front door clicked open. She heard muffled voices. Her mother said something about the party. Nate mumbled a sleepy response. Suddenly Travis called out in surprise. A heavy thud. Screaming. Guttural commands. Then the sounds of struggle as one by one her family’s cries were silenced. Next she heard dragging noises, followed by footsteps as the man returned. More humming from the next room. Nate’s room. Slapping sounds, muffled sobs.
The man spoke, his sepulchral tones filled with mocking cruelty. Her heart gripped in a fist of terror, Allison listened to the words he said to Nate. Softly, as though reading from a script, the man told Nate what he intended to do.
Trembling, she heard the sounds of another struggle, this time mercifully brief. Moments later it was over.
As the intruder retreated down the hall toward her parents’ room, Allison jammed her fist to her mouth to silence her sobs.
Nothing. She had done nothing.
And now it was too late.
Oh, God, Nate. I’m sorry, she thought, her eyes squeezed shut against the terrible clinging darkness, tears spilling down her cheeks. I’m so sorry.
Carns paused in the center of the bedroom, surveying his surroundings. Candles washed the chamber in hues of yellow, sending a montage of light and shadow flickering across the walls. The woman lay trussed on the floor, the older boy hogtied beside her.
Carns knelt to examine their gags, making certain they hadn’t slipped and blocked their breathing. Satisfied, he rechecked the plastic ties binding their hands and feet. He felt a thrill of anticipation as he noticed the woman’s eyes widening in terror, her body shuddering at his touch. She was exquisite. Although he knew from earlier surveillance that Kane wasn’t living at home, he intensely regretted that the troublesome detective wasn’t present. Unfortunately, the boy would have to do. As Carns rose to his feet, a satisfying thought occurred to him. Kane will know. He won’t know how, but he’ll know. And he won’t be able to do a thing about it.
Everything was nearly ready.
Carns dragged the boy to the closet and jerked him to his knees, noting that his face and eyes were still red from the pepper spray. Seizing a fistful of hair, he circled the youngster’s neck with a noose, tied the other end of the rope to the closet doorknob, and inserted the pipe. He gave it a twist, careful not to cinch the noose too tight. As with the gags, he didn’t want to end things prematurely.
The woman next.
Carns scooped her up and dumped her onto the bed. Working quickly, he tied one ankle to the corner of the bed frame. His pulse quickened as she renewed her struggles, her skirt riding up over her thighs. Cupping her chin, he passed a noose around her neck as he had with the boy, fastening it to the headboard. Next he looped a second line around her other ankle, running it to the opposite corner of the bed frame. The last step entailed cutting the plastic tie binding her feet. He tensed, readying himself for what was to come.
Now.
She kicked, lashing out with her legs, just as the others had. He grabbed her free ankle and levered it down, pulling the rope taut at the same time.
Done.
Smiling with satisfaction, he climbed onto the bed, straddling her. Her chest heaved as he crawled on top, the weight of his body causing her breasts to strain against the fabric of her blouse. Reaching behind her back, he found her hands. Roughly, he rolled her onto her side and tied a length of rope to each of her wrists, then cut the final plastic tie. She renewed her struggles, but less forcefully than before. Her earlier resistance had tightened the noose around her neck, cutting off her air. Carns knelt on her arms and fastened them to the frame above her head. It was a critical maneuver that always gave him difficulty, but at last it was done.