“What?” Sam mumbled, obviously not understanding the words, so stark and bold, just like the last hacked-in message from Darwin.
It took Alec a split second less to figure it out. Something inside him died a little as he thought of what this meant for Sam, who seemed to have so few people in her life.
Because it appeared one of those people might soon be out of her life.
“ ‘ You’re too late to save her’?” Sam murmured. “What does he mean? I’m right here.”
Alec scrolled the screen down with a flick of his finger on the touch pad, already knowing there was more. And he was right.
So sorry, Samantha, dear, but it has to be done. Too bad she didn’t listen to you and learn a bit of caution-you did warn her about men like me, didn’t you? Do remember to avoid wearing mascara to the funeral… it won’t hold up under your tears, and you’re far too lovely to have dark smears beneath your eyes.
Sam read the words and finally grasped them. “Oh, my God.”
Alec nodded once.
“He’s gone after someone I love.”
She leaped to her feet, already racing toward the door before he even had time to stop her.
“Sam, wait. I need to know who it could be. Wyatt and the others are ready to charge to the rescue; we just need to know who the target would most likely be.”
Her expression terrified, her breaths merely short gasps, she said, “She had a date tonight with someone she met on the Internet. I did warn her, but she didn’t listen.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Alec, that psychopath has my mother.”
14
Even though he’d needed to make some adjustments this evening after a highly unexpected development, the ambush had gone exactly as he had expected it to. As usual, his plan had been flawlessly designed and easy to carry out. Glancing at his watch, Darwin realized he was right on schedule. A few hours, at least, until he’d need to dump her, leaving him with sufficient time to get her ready for her night on the town, as it was.
Once he’d had her in his hands and knew he’d gotten away clean, he had posted his message on Samantha’s Web site. She had probably already read it; the FBI almost certainly had. All of them were, right now, in a blind panic, racing to save the stupid cow behind him.
That cow had been so stupid, she’d never even been the least bit suspicious. She hadn’t checked him out, had never questioned him. She had not even second-guessed the location for their get-together when he’d called her a couple of hours ago. She’d walked blindly into her fate, as so many had before her.
But she wasn’t like all those who had gone before her. This one was special, if only because of how much losing her would hurt Samantha Dalton.
“Silly, impulsive, reckless woman,” he murmured, though, of course, she was unconscious and couldn’t hear him. “You really don’t value yourself very highly, do you, my dear?”
Fortunately, he had known this moment would come, so he’d been paving the way for weeks. Reaching out to her through e-mail, he’d let her get to know him, or think she did. He’d called himself Randolph Gertz, a wealthy widower dabbling in various investments. And her greedy little soul had been unable to resist him.
His companion had entered their arranged meeting place right on schedule and had never even seen him come at her with the chloroform. Not being sure he would be able to get her to drink something right away, he’d had to resort to the slightly riskier means of taking her down.
He’d kept her down with a few sharp blows to her face and head.
Regrettable, his losing his temper like that; he so seldom did. But something about seeing her lying there, helpless and vulnerable, when she should have been Samantha, had enraged him.
“A few hits won’t kill you,” he said, speaking casually over his shoulder to the woman sprawled in the back of the van. A trickle of blood from her nose smeared one cheek, her lip was swollen, and a bruise was forming beneath one eye. He imagined she would have a terrible headache if she ever woke up. Still, she didn’t look too much the worse for wear.
In fact, she should fit right in where he intended to take her.
“You’re lucky, you know. There’s a very good chance tonight’s ordeal won’t kill you, either. You could be lucky, or you could be unlucky. You could play it smart, or you could panic and get yourself killed.” He smiled, thinking about the way he most wanted it to turn out. “I rather hope you live through it.”
Live through it enough to talk about it. To tell Samantha about it. To reveal her pain and her agony and ask why something so awful had happened.
Because it would be awful. Of that he had no doubt.
In fact, he might be able to assure it. Because as he’d beaten her, he’d been quite surprised to find himself growing erect. No, her prone body was not the one he wanted… but violating it was almost as good. Something to keep in mind, if he had the time.
Reaching the storage facility where he’d rented a garage, he quickly got out and pulled the van inside, needing privacy. The stupid bitch probably wouldn’t wake up, but just in case she did, and made a fuss, he did not want to have to answer any questions. The facility would more than likely remain deserted at this time of the evening, but it didn’t pay to be careless.
Once within, he quickly closed the rolling door and flipped on the portable lights he always left here. He positioned them toward the sliding panel door of the van, wanting plenty of illumination while he got her ready, then opened it.
“In the spotlight,” he said. “Believe me-you’re soon going to look like someone who likes it that way.”
Eyeing her-bloody and bruised, unconscious-without pity, he reached for his knife. And began to remove her clothes.
Sam vacillated between terror and utter rage as she and Alec tore through the night, heading for Baltimore. At first, he’d told her he wouldn’t take her to her mother’s place. He’d wanted to stay in D.C., to let the others handle it.
Yeah. Right.
She’d told him she was going, and the only way he would stop her was if he threw her out the window, and then he’d better hope she broke both her legs.
“Try her cell phone again,” Alec snapped, as if knowing she was on the verge of letting out a high, keening wail.
She did as he asked, even though she’d been calling every minute since reading that awful message on her site. Just like with every other call, she got her mom’s voice mail on the second ring. “It’s still turned off.” She dialed the house number, got the answering machine again, and left what was probably her tenth message.
“Do you have any idea where she was going, or who she was with?”
Leaning forward in her seat, as if urging the car to go even faster, Sam shook her head. “She played it so close to the vest. I had really given her hell about even considering online dating, so she obviously wasn’t going to talk to me about it.”
“But you’re certain she was planning to go out tonight with someone she had met online?”
“Like I said, she wasn’t confiding in me, but I knew she had a date, and was being incredibly secretive about it.”
“Because she knew you were against it.”
“Exactly.” Tension making her quiver, she added, “Plus, if she is meeting with Darwin, do you think he might have told her to keep the details hush-hush?”
“Yes, he probably would have.”
She hadn’t really wanted the confirmation. “Damn it, Alec, why is this happening? Is it really possible one blog post brought the wrath of this monster down on my mother’s head?”
“I don’t know,” he said, sounding frustrated and weary. “It seems so out of character for the Professor. He’s always been methodical and organized, cautious, taking weeks, months, once even a year between his crimes. For him to spin as wildly out of control as he seems to be this week-not only how frequently he’s attacking, but also taunting you the way he has-it seems like something else is at play here.”