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“I kept the pact, and all your secrets the past decade.” Wahlburg whirled on Harvey and drew a gun from the back of his jeans. “Let her go. I protected her all these years and I’m going to protect her now.”
Harvey gripped Lorna Bea by the hair and raised the knife.
Ellie’s heart thundered. She had to hurry.
Desperate, she searched the room for a weapon. Nothing. No window. No bathroom. The door looked heavy and was locked. But the cameras…
She rocked herself back and forth in the chair, scooting it closer to the screens. Inch by inch, she scooted. She pushed too hard and the chair tumbled over. Pain slammed into her back with the force. She sucked in a breath to stifle a scream, and dragged herself another inch, then two, then another until she reached one of the screens.
Using her feet and upper body, she tried to upright the chair. Frustration mounted as she made it halfway then fell again. Gritting her teeth, she tried again and again. On the fourth attempt, she managed to get the chair back up on four legs. Her breath panted out.
Lorna Bea’s screams pierced the air. Wahlburg jumped in front of her to protect her.
Ellie sucked in a breath and slowly shifted the chair so she could reach one of the monitors. Using her elbow, she swung backward until the glass shattered. Pellets of glass sprayed. Three larger chunks hit the table the monitors sat on. She pivoted her body and strained to get hold of one. The sharp corner stabbed her palm and blood seeped from the cut. Biting back a moan, she used the piece of glass to saw back and forth until the ropes gave way.
Sweat beaded her skin and trickled down her face. Taking deep breaths, she managed to untie her ankles, then stood. She swayed, dizzy, and grabbed the table for support.
Wahlburg and Harvey were shouting. Lorna Bea crying. She glanced at the screens again. At Cord. God, she wanted to go to him. To save him.
But Lorna Bea needed her and she could not let that bastard kill her.
Fear sparked her adrenaline and Ellie hurried across the room. The door was unlocked. She hesitated for a second, wondering if they were watching. If they’d left it unlocked to lure her into a trap.
The door squeaked as she opened it and she peered into the dark hallway. This place smelled old and musty, of death and darkness. She paused to listen then walked a few feet, searching for the room where Lorna Bea was being held.
A gunshot rang out, and she ran in the direction of the sound.
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE
Derrick and Landrum met the sheriff and Deputy Eastwood on the main road leading to the old hospital and parked beneath a canopy of trees to camouflage their arrival. Weapons drawn, the four of them crept through the brush and trees until they reached the building.
Kudzu and years of grime covered the concrete, and the windows were crusted over. “I think there’s at least three perps inside,” Derrick said. “Wahlburg, Pockley and Radcliff.”
His gaze scanned the property, but he didn’t see anyone outside. Still, there were plenty of places to hide cameras so the men could be watching.
“Consider them armed and extremely dangerous,” Derrick warned. “If this is their big celebration, there may be several victims inside. The girl Lorna Bea, Sarah Turner, Beverly Hooper and Janie Huggins.” His throat thickened. “They also have Ellie and McClain.”
The deputies and Waters nodded understanding.
“The last thing we want is to give them more hostages. Once inside, let’s divide into teams,” he said. “Landrum, you’re with me. Deputy Eastwood with the sheriff. And keep your mics on so we can communicate.”
Scanning all directions, Derrick led the way to the front door and eased it open. The place was dark and smelled musty as if there had been water damage. Cobwebs dangled from the corners and somewhere a clock’s loud ticking echoed through the cold corridor.
They fanned out, checking the closest rooms and finding them empty. Derrick led the way to a stairwell and crept down it, the others following, ears and eyes alert.
The stairs led downwards into what must have been the morgue. There, he found a room with the door open. He glanced inside and his chest tightened. A wall of screens ran live footage from various rooms.
Coolidge’s spy cameras were disgusting but this set-up was mindboggling. It was central station to a bad horror show, except the horror here was very real. Odessa Muldane hung from the rafters in one room, blood soaking her naked body, her head lolled over. Sarah Turner, Beverly Hooper and Janie Huggins were tied in separate rooms.
“Oh, my God,” Deputy Eastwood whispered.
“Sophisticated equipment,” Deputy Landrum commented.
“Where’s Ellie?” Sheriff Waters asked.
Derrick turned in an arc and spotted another room where McClain lay, also bloody and unconscious. In another, he found Lorna Bea.
Wahlburg was there, another man holding a knife to the girl’s neck. He pivoted slightly and Derrick recognized him. One of the crime scene investigators, the photographer Harvey.
