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52
What are you doing?” he said. “I was trying to help you. I’m not the one you need to worry about.”
Alex pushed him to the ground and removed her belt. Then she pulled his hands behind his back and wrapped the belt around them, making certain they were tightly bound. After that, she flipped him over and pushed him up next to the picnic table. The thing was massive. Extremely heavy. He’d have to turn into the Incredible Hulk to drag it around. Thankfully, the belt was leather. Strong. She looped the ends of the belt around one leg of the table and secured it. Then she pulled it as hard as she could. It would take a miracle for him to break it.
“You’re making a mistake,” he said. “You’ll get us both killed. He knows you’re the girl who made fun of him. He plans to kill you and then all the other women in the cellar. This isn’t what I signed up for. I’ve been helping him for the last six years and . . . ignoring the truth about him because I didn’t want to end up in prison. But this has gone too far.”
“Look, I know you think you’re telling the truth,” Alex said, “but I believe you may be suffering from a mental disorder, and this is only one of your personalities.”
His mouth dropped open. “You’re wrong. You have to listen to me.”
She ignored him and reached into his jacket pocket. She pulled out his phone and immediately called Jeff. She used the number given only to the FBI so he wouldn’t ignore a number he didn’t know. After a few rings she heard his voice.
“Jeff. Jeff, it’s Alex.”
“Alex! We know where you are. Teams are on the way. Are you all right? Are any of the women still alive?”
She sat down at the table, keeping some distance between herself and her captive.
“Yes to both questions. How did you find us?”
“We know the name of the guy who took you. We got it from an old carnie and a man who used to own Magic Land Park.”
“What’s his name?” she asked, staring at the man looking back at her. He still hadn’t reverted to Andy . . . or the Ghost Rider. She was a little surprised. She figured by now he would be angry enough to really lose his cool and trigger an alternate personality.
“Columbus Jones,” Jeff said. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s it. He was called Lum before he started calling himself the Ghost Rider.”
“Because he ran the Ghost Shack?”
“Exactly. His favorite thing.”
“Listen, Jeff. This place is surrounded by an electric fence, and he’s running everything with generators. I’ll turn them off so the teams can get in. Then I’ll find the keys and let the women out of their cells. Will you let whoever is in charge know—”
“No!” the man said loudly. “You have to listen to me. He’ll stop you. He’ll kill you. And then he’ll probably kill me.”
“What’s he saying?” Jeff said.
“I think we’re looking at a guy with dissociative identity disorder. He’s tied down pretty good, though, so he won’t get away.” She looked at the man. “So your name is Columbus Jones? No wonder you changed it to the Ghost Rider. Or Andy.”
But as she said it, the doubts she’d had earlier wiggled around like little worms in her head. He wasn’t acting the way she thought he would. Could she be wrong? Was there someone else here she needed to protect herself from?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, his tone bordering on hysteria. “My name is Brent. Brent Teague. I was hired by the man you know as Andy to lure women here. He felt he couldn’t do it because ... because of how he looks.”
“Alex, did ... did he say Andy?” Jeff asked.
“Yeah. One of the three personalities I think we’re dealing with. Do you know what happened to trigger all this?”
“Yes. Years ago a girl with long black hair dressed in a daisy-covered dress humiliated him in front of the carnies he worked with, along with some friends the girl was with. She lured him to the beer garden at Magic Land Park, pretended she was going to let him kiss her, and then had her friend pour soda on his head while everyone laughed at him.”
“He killed her, didn’t he?”
“Yes. Her and another young carnie who was with her. Let’s go back to Andy. That ... that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why?”
“The carnie he murdered? He was named Andy.”
Alex had just turned to look at the man who was staring at her . . . no, past her . . . when she felt hands around her neck. Hands that choked her until she felt the world around her slip away.
