“I helped save a missing family last night on Lake Havasu.”
“Well aren’t you special,” Gwen said, no longer listening, all her focus on Benson’s house.
“Just be careful,” he warned.
Chapter 72
Gwen stumbled through the wind and rain, which was so fierce it knocked her off balance. She splashed through puddles that were turning into small lakes. She hurried across the marshy ground, falling twice, before reaching the beach house. After making sure the coast was clear, she climbed the stairs, holding tightly to the slippery railing.
Her naivete in thinking she could actually walk through the front door worked in her favor. The sliding glass door was smashed in. She didn’t know what to make of this development, but entered the house through the large hole. Her best guess was that Benson had left in search of supplies to fix it, and would be back soon. But for all she knew, he could have been off to kill a drunk driver. Regardless, she didn’t have a moment to lose.
She pulled out her dripping cell phone from her poncho, surprised it still worked, and re-dialed. “JP, someone must have broken in or out of here, the glass door is bashed in. Maybe this is where he was holding Carter, but he was able to break out,” she said, excited by the possibility.
He tempered her enthusiasm, “I broke it during my own search. I also emptied all his drawers when searching for evidence. There’s nothing in there.”
Gwen urgently moved from room to room. “He must have cleaned up because everything is back in place.”
“Hurry up and get out of there!”
Gwen ignored, but kept him on the phone. His voice made her feel safer. “I know there’s something going on in his bedroom.”
She searched the room and then checked the closet. When she parted the hanging clothes, she noticed a piece of the paneling slightly peeling off the wall. It might have gone unnoticed if she wasn’t looking for something. When she yanked on it, it came off, exposing a hidden door with a combination lock. She knew it!
She began fiddling with the combination lock with no luck, and finally settled on the tactic of banging on the thick steel door and shouting, “Carter are you in there!?” Not very effective.
“Can you please just get out of there, Gwen? I just can’t deal with the thought of losing you again,” JP pleaded.
Gwen took his words with a smile.
Then she screamed.
A strong hand strapped around her neck. The other hand covered her mouth, muffling her screams.
Her phone fell to the ground.
Chapter 73
Once again Grady Benson swallowed the bitter taste of betrayal. When his necklace signaled an intruder, he had hoped it was a looter, but deep down he knew he’d find Gwen Delaney.
Even though he knew she’d plotted against him, he still held out some hope she would mend her ways. No woman had ever made him feel like she did. But now he saw that she was nothing more than a test. And it was one he was going to pass.
He kept a firm hand over her mouth, while reaching down to pick up the phone. He listened for a moment, hearing Warner’s pleas, as if it would help. He unceremoniously hung up on him.
He first secured the prisoner with a pair of Rockfield PD handcuffs, and putting masking tape over her mouth. It was bad enough she betrayed him, but he didn’t have to listen to her refer to him as a “sick bastard” and tell him over and over again he wouldn’t “get away with it.”
He spun the combination lock and proudly informed her the combination was 74891010. The first part was the date of his parents’ murder, while the other was the date that would live in infamy.
He tore off her hood and baseball cap. He grabbed a chunk of her hair and walked her into the secure room. When he tossed her on the floor, she landed right next to the unconscious Carter.
“You very much disappoint me, Gwen,” he lamented. She couldn’t respond, which suited him fine. “You were supposed to be a journalist, to report the story without prejudice. But instead you used your platform to support an enabler of evil like JP Warner. He was once a courageous truth-teller who exposed Buford, but like Kyle, he turned his back on his calling. And look what he’s done to you-he turned you into a common criminal, willing to break into a private home to support your agenda of lies.”
He noticed her eyes casing the room, viewing the pictures on the wall. Many that she was very familiar with. He took pleasure in the shock on her face when she viewed the one remaining photo without an X. She knew he was next. Too bad she wouldn’t be around to see it.
He took out a bag of candy bars and tossed them on the floor. “Don’t fret, Gwen, you are a prisoner of war. A prisoner of a just and morally correct war. Therefore, you and your friend will be treated with the policies outlined in the Geneva Convention. You are too important to the final outcome for me to let you starve to death.”
He tore the masking tape off so hard he first thought he tore her lips right off her face. “I will leave the keys to your handcuffs over here. You are very resourceful, I’m sure you’ll find a way to remove them. It won’t matter, since you will never be able to escape this room.”
He viewed the trepidation on her face. “Don’t be afraid. This room is designed to withstand winds up to three-hundred-miles-per-hour. The rest of the house may fall apart, but your final resting place will be stable.”
He used the remainder of the afternoon to eat a light lunch and board-up the sliding glass door. He penned a chapter in his journal as the rain pounded on the roof and the wind howled. Before leaving, he returned to the storm-room with a large mixing bowl filled with water. He figured it would keep his prisoners alive for the precious few days he needed from them. Then he locked them in.
He secured the residence, in case of looters, or JP Warner, whom he was convinced was responsible for the previous damage. He then left the island. But before heading back to Connecticut, he decided that he needed to make a stop in Raleigh.
On the ferry ride back to Cape Hatteras, he threw Gwen’s cell phone as far as he could and watched it plop into the turbulent waters.
Part Six
Chapter 74
Cape Hatteras, North Carolina
October 6-present
The minute Gwen’s phone went dead I made a beeline to North Carolina. No flights were landing in the area, so I had to fly to Norfolk, Virginia and drive. The irony didn’t escape me that it was the same city I landed in on my return from Germany, convinced that my life was about to take a turn for the better, or at least would be calmer.
My calls to the authorities went nowhere-the local police in the Outer Banks were too busy with hurricane evacuation, while the FBI has a standing policy against taking my calls. I did get in touch with the state police, but they hung up on me after I started talking crazy stuff about stolen identities, kidnapped wrestlers, and vigilante killers.
I rented an SUV with four-wheel drive that seemed like my best bet with the looming hurricane. But what I really needed was my Humvee, which was still docked at the Ocracoke Air Field as a security deposit on my last trip home. At least I hoped it was still there.
The hurricane evacuation had turned the road heading out of town into a virtual parking lot. But working in my favor was that I was the only moron heading toward the storm, so traffic was clear my way. I took US-158 and then crossed over the Wright Memorial Bridge into Kitty Hawk. I wound through the center of Roanoke Island until I reached Whalebone Junction in Nags Head.
When I reached Hatteras, I received some bad news-no more ferries were traveling to the island. I was left to face the reality that the only way to reach the island was a twenty-mile swim. I actually thought about it for a moment, before realizing I couldn’t even walk five miles in perfect weather in my condition. I retreated to Sloopy Joe’s in need of a new plan … and a drink.