Page 83 of Dead Drift

“Now, it’s no fun if you can’t hear the punishing you’re inflicting.” He ripped the duct tape from Finley’s mouth, her lips and skin red and raw. “And trust me,” he said, moving for Griffin, “out here, it’s actually true—no one can hear you scream.” He chuckled.

Joel Hood was truly demented.

Following suit, he ripped Griffin’s duct tape from his mouth. It burned, but at least now he could wage a battle.

“Not even Albert, who should be back on the property soon?”

“Albert,” Joel said, twisting the blade back and forth, watching the light streaming through the upper loft windows and reflecting off the steel with a glint. “This barn is too far from the house for anyone to hear.” He smiled wickedly. “Trust me, both Stacey and your sister discovered that in the most exquisitely painful way.”

Griffin lunged forward so fast and hard he split the duct tape around his torso.

“Whoa!” Joel laughed, jumping back with a mocking grin. “Aren’t we the fierce one? No matter. You’ll never break those cuffs.”

Perhaps not, but he knew how to get out of them—a trick Parker had taught them all back in college while they were criminal justice majors. He just had to dislocate his thumb and his hand would slide right out. It took a bit of maneuvering and a fair amount of pain, but he’d done it before.

Joel circled Finley like a lion circling its prey and then leaned over her shoulder, holding the knife blade to the right side of her neck. “So you paid Mother a visit today. I should thank you. It turned out to be a highly valuable interaction. One in which I learned several things—such as the need to dispose of Albert. I took care of that, but with you two on the way, I was forced to rush my work, which I loathe doing. I mean, where’s the fun and craftsmanship in that? But no matter, I’ll make up for that now.”

How did Joel know the details of their conversation with his mother? Did he have her place bugged? Had he been hidden somewhere in the room or nearby? It wasn’t worth asking, because after Griffin got loose, it wouldn’t matter. Joel Hood would finally be behind bars, where the monster belonged.

Joel rhythmically slid the flat face of the blade along Finley’s ivory neck.

Griffin’s fists tightened. He was going to kill him. He swallowed and refocused. He needed to mess with Joel’s head until he managed to dislocate his thumb or, better yet, thumbs. “Why’d you start killing? All because some girl cheated on you?” he asked, working to pop his thumb out of joint.

Joel’s face reddened as he moved toward Griffin. But Griffin’s moment was coming, and with one more pop of his thumb, he’d be ready.

Joel bent, his face so close to Griffin’s he could smell garlic and onion on the man’s vile breath. “Trust me, I shifted the power over that witch into my hands, where it still resides and forever will.”

Griffin shifted. “What do you mean still?” He wasn’t seriously suggesting Stacey was still alive?

“I mean she’s locked in a watery grave that I control. She’ll never be free—not even in death.”

The boathouse. He’d buried Stacey under the water and somehow restrained her there.

Joel stepped away before Griffin could lunge. “I’d put your wife there when I’m finished with her, but that spot is reserved for Stacey. The rest are simply trash to be dumped.”

“In water?”

Joel nodded. “Sometimes they wash up on shore like the refuse they are, and other times they remain below.”

“How many, Joel?”

He pointed the tip of the blade in Finley’s direction. “Your wife will be an even dozen. But don’t worry—she won’t be the last. There are so many women out there deserving punishment, and I track them down, making them pay for their actions.”

“Punishment for cheating on their boyfriends, or sneaking out to meet them, like Stacey did?” Griffin got his other thumb popped out of joint and silently slid out both hands, one after the other, then fisted the cuffs in his left hand, leaving them behind his back until the right moment. “Let me guess, you caught her sneaking out one night to rendezvous with her lover?”

Joel rushed at him, blade lifted. “Don’t ever call him that.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

Joel paced back and forth with marked agitation. “Stacey was a betrayer. They’re all betrayers.”

“Not Finley. She’s never betrayed anyone. She doesn’t deserve to be punished.” He watched his wife lean closer to the table of weapons—she was going to try to grab one, try to work her cuffs free.

“She’s just going to have to be for fun, for pleasure, plain and simple,” Joel said. “It’s not like I can let either of you go.”

“People know. My partner knows. My boss knows,” Griffin said.

“That was a mistake,” Joel said. “Perhaps you deserve to be punished too.” He stalked toward Griffin and bent over him, and Griffin took that opportune moment to swing a right hook with full force into Joel’s face, so hard he knocked Joel back onto the ground, dazed but not unconscious.