BATON ROUGE (13 page)

Alexander stared at Nicholas hollowly. “I don’t know what we need to do in order to achieve that. I’m lost.”

“We aren’t,” Matt said and jostled Frank’s shoulder. “We’re going to check out where Roger, Michelle and Jax are right now and where they have been for the last couple of hours. We’ll get back to you as soon as we have some answers.” With that the two men left the room, passing Tim and Terry as they entered.

Alexander slumped down into a chair once again and buried his face in his hands. He was vaguely aware of Tim firing up his computer as Terry and Nicholas sat on either side of him.

“Tell us exactly what happened,” Nicholas said. “How did he get to her?”

The question created a sharp pain that sliced through Alexander. “He got to her by going through me.” He raced a hand through his hair in frustration. “Somebody knocked on the door. I looked out and opened the door without my weapon drawn, but I can’t remember who was on the front stoop. I stepped out and Bob blew a dart into my back.”

“So we know Bob is working with an accomplice,” Nicholas said. “Was it possible you’d open your door and feel no danger if you saw Michelle Davison standing there?”

“I don’t know...maybe.” Alexander looked at the men on either side of him and then stared at the bulletin board where Georgina’s picture would soon be added.

Dammit, he felt as if the key was in his head. If he could only remember who had knocked on his door, he would know who was responsible for not just the seven victims’ disappearances, but Georgina’s as well.

“All I know for sure is that the end is coming fast,” he continued. “He wanted Georgina and now he has her. She completes what he wanted and it won’t be long before he’ll be finished with all of them.”

He hoped the overwhelming hopelessness he felt didn’t show on his face, didn’t radiate from his eyes. He had to think positive. They
would
find Bob before he could hurt any of his victims, before he could hurt Georgina.

He just needed to think and remember. Otherwise he had a feeling there would be no rescue, there would be no more Georgina.

Chapter Thirteen

“Good morning, my dear friends. And a special good morning to my newest guest, sweet Georgina.”

Bob’s voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard, interrupting the happy dream she’d been having about Alex. She sat up and heard the sound of the others awakening.

Morning? Where had the night gone? The last thing she remembered was staring up at the underside of the top bunk. She’d obviously fallen asleep and the night had passed, without rescue, without hope.

She stood and moved to the front of her cell as a masked Bob pushed a tray containing a breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee through an opening at the bottom of the bars.

He straightened and his blue eyes gleamed with glee. “I’m so happy to have you here, Georgina. We have so much to talk about and it’s much nicer talking in person rather than over the phone.”

“I can’t imagine anything we have to discuss,” she replied. She grabbed the tray and took it to her bunk where she sat down with her back to him.

He laughed, obviously amused by her little show of defiance. “Unfortunately, I have a busy day today and don’t have time to visit with you this morning, but I’ll be back later and we’re going to have a nice chat together.”

He delivered trays to each of the others, and then came back to stand in front of Georgina’s cell. “I’ve wanted you here since the moment I first saw you and I always get what I want. You
will
talk to me later, otherwise I’ll start killing the others one by one, and I’ll start with the smallest.”

He’d kept his voice soft, little more than a whisper, but his words shot chills up Georgina’s spine until he finally left the big room.

“Bastard,” Jackson hissed.

Georgina turned on her bed, careful not to upend her tray, and looked at him. Jackson had always been an incredibly handsome man, but at the moment he looked haggard, with deep stress lines cutting across his forehead and down the sides of his mouth.

“They’ll find us,” she said, recognizing that she was trying to reassure herself as much as him. “Alex and his team won’t stop until they find us.”

“Yeah, but will we all be dead by then?” Jackson asked softly. “I got the feeling from talking to you last night that the task force didn’t have many clues.”

Georgina took a sip of the bitter, black coffee before replying. There was no way she wanted the people here to know that the task force only had three potential persons of interest and even they were weak suspects at best.

She didn’t want to take away the tiny ray of hope that still remained by telling them the team had no idea where they were being held or who was responsible for their kidnappings.

“They had clues. We felt we were getting close.” The little white lie fell off her tongue without apology. Nothing could be served here by telling the truth—that the task force had been scrambling without success for answers, that they were no closer to finding out who was responsible or where the victims were than they’d been on the day the task force had been formed.

She took another drink of the coffee and looked around the space. It was a big room made of concrete blocks with the cells running along one side and nothing but a folding chair on the other side.

There were several doorways, which led her to believe there was more than this single room to the building. “Has anyone been able to figure out what this place is?” she asked.

“I think it’s an old women’s prison,” Jackson said. “In the back of Baker’s Bayou.”

She shook her head. “We checked out that place yesterday.” Dear God, had it only been yesterday that they had marched through the swamp, so certain that they were headed for success?

“Then that shoots my theory all to hell. But I do believe we’re somewhere in a swamp. I can smell it. I can feel it. Unfortunately, I have no idea what swamp or what kind of place this might have been.”

Georgina looked around her cell. “I think he must have somehow built the cells himself. If it was an old prison, there wouldn’t be showers in each one or privacy curtains for the occupants. All the prisons I’ve ever seen have a communal shower room, not individual ones.”

“He definitely planned this out for a long time. We’re being fed twice a day and he’s even brought clean clothes to the others a couple of times since they’ve been here. The overhead lights are on all the time so the only way we know it’s daytime is when he brings us breakfast.”

As Georgina ate her breakfast sandwich, Jackson continued to tell her about the conversations Bob had shared with each of the agents, conversations that had revolved around the mistakes serial killers made that got them caught.

Education—that’s what Bob was looking for. And who better to learn from than the men and women who chased the monsters? There comes a time when the teacher has to become the student. Bob’s words whirled around in her head and again the only name she thought of was Dr. Jacob Tanner, a professor who immersed himself in teaching about serial killers.

Was it possible that he had decided that teaching about them wasn’t enough, that he needed action and to become what he taught about?

It didn’t matter what she thought. It didn’t matter if Bob was really Jacob Tanner. She couldn’t give any information to Alex to help him find them. All she could do was wait...and pray that somehow, someway, he’d figure things out.

* * *

T
HE
NIGHT
HAD
BEEN
ENDLESS
. Alexander now stood at the window, sipping a fresh cup of coffee as he watched the dawn streaking across the sky.

His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and his heart held a hopelessness that could cast him to his knees if he allowed it. The only thing they’d learned through the night was that Roger, Michelle and Jax all had solid alibis for the time that Georgina had been taken from Alexander’s house.

He leaned his head against the window glass and closed his eyes, angry that he couldn’t remember who had been on his front porch...who had lured him out enough that Bob could dart him in the back and render him unconscious.

If he could just remember. He tapped the glass with his forehead in an effort to dredge up a name, a face, anything that he could hang onto. He knew that he held the key to finding Georgina and the others, but it was locked inside his brain and at the moment seemed irretrievable.

He finally turned from the window and sat at the table. He and Tim were the only ones in the war room. The others were using the light of day to recheck his house, which was now a crime scene.

They would check to make sure they hadn’t missed anything in the dark of night. They also intended to canvass the neighborhood to see if anyone had seen or heard anything at the time that Georgina had been taken and he’d been drugged.

Tim had worked through the night on the computer, trying to find something, anything, that would break the case wide open. He typed with fevered fingers, as if believing that finding the location was the only way to solve the crime.

Georgina. Alexander’s heart cried her name, his very soul ached with the need to find her, to save her from whatever fate Bob had in store for her and all the victims of his craziness.

He took another sip of his coffee, feeling utterly helpless, much the way he had felt during most of the Gilmer case when a young woman’s fate had hung in the balance.

Now it wasn’t a young woman he’d never met. It was his beloved Georgina, and he knew if something happened and she died, he would never get over it. He would crawl into the blackest hole of pain and never, ever be able to climb back out.

Agony. He was in sheer agony. The key to everything was locked in his head and refused to be dislodged. If he could only remember who had been on his front porch. Who he had felt no danger from when he’d opened his front door and had stepped out on the porch. It couldn’t have been any of the potential suspects, for he would have pulled his gun before opening the door for any of them.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep sigh. Remember...he had to remember, and instantly a vision filled his head. He and Georgina had been talking about their relationship. He’d told her that he still loved her and she’d been about to reply when the knock on the door had sounded.

Suddenly a vision of the person who had been standing on his porch the night before appeared in his head. His eyes snapped open. What was her name? He not only remembered seeing her on his porch but he remembered where he had seen her before...in Dr. Jacob Tanner’s office.

His heart raced as his body filled with a burst of welcome adrenaline that had been sadly missing throughout the darkness of the long night.

Megan. Her name was Megan. What was her last name? He frowned and fought against an edge of excitement that sliced through him. As he replayed the day that he and Georgina went to speak to Dr. Tanner about Michelle, he thought about the young woman who had greeted them.

Megan. Megan James.

“Tim, I need you to find whatever personal information you can dig up on Megan James. She’s a student assistant to Dr. Jacob Tanner at the college. In fact, I need both her and his addresses as quickly as possible. I don’t care what avenue you need to use to get the information for me, just get it as quickly as possible.”

As Tim began to type, Alexander jumped to his feet and quickly pulled his phone from his pocket. It took him only minutes to call Matt and Frank and tell them to get back to the war room immediately.

Although every nerve in his body screamed for action, he knew he needed backup if what he believed was true. He’d gone off half-cocked in the Gilmer case and the result had been tragic.

Of course, in that particular case it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d had a dozen or a thousand agents with him. The simple truth was that they had been too late to save Kelly. He would not, he
could
not, be too late to save Georgina.

Throughout the long night, he and Nicholas had made peace. Nicholas had been appalled by the fact that Alexander had entertained any doubt about his commitment to his job, about his loyalty to the team.

He’d told Alexander how his family had spent the first five years of his life living in a shanty in the swamp, and then his father had gotten a job that had allowed them to move into the city. Nicholas had worked hard to overcome his early beginnings.

The young agent was ambitious and bright. All he needed was some seasoning, and Alexander thought he’d already learned some valuable lessons and would eventually be quite successful within the agency.

Right now, Nicholas and lessons were the very last things on Alexander’s mind as he paced the floor waiting for Matt and Frank to arrive.

He needed them to get here as quickly as possible. He had no idea what part Megan had played in the crimes, but it was an indisputable fact that she had been the lure that had drawn him out of the house and onto his porch so that Tanner could dart him into unconsciousness.

Tim got the addresses for both Megan James and Jacob Tanner and handed them to Alex at the same time Matt walked in. “What’s up?” he asked.

“I think we’ve got him.” As he explained to Matt what he’d remembered, Frank arrived and within minutes the three of them were on their way to Tanner’s off-campus town house.

“If he’s leading the double life I believe he is, then he should be at home at this hour of the morning.” Every nerve in Alexander’s body burned, every muscle tensed.

He could be wrong. They’d all been wrong when they’d rushed to the old structure at the back of Baker’s Bayou. He’d never considered that Bob might have a partner, but there was no question in his mind now that it had been Megan who had lured him outside.

He now had a perfect memory of looking out of his peephole in the door and seeing Megan James standing there. He’d felt no fear, only curiosity as to what had brought her to his home.

When he remembered meeting the young woman, he had seen the hero worship she had for her boss. It only made sense that if she were a part of this, then Tanner was Bob.

However, there was no way to be absolutely certain. It was possible that Megan was a puppet for some other sick twist...maybe another student who wanted to become infamous.

As Matt drove toward Jacob Tanner’s town house, Alexander found himself second-guessing the move. Maybe they should have confronted Megan first. He voiced his concerns aloud, but both of the other men thought his first reaction, to get to Tanner first, was the right one.

“If nothing else we bring him in and get him behind bars. We’ll have twelve hours to sort it out before we have to bring some sort of charges against him or release him,” Matt said.

“I hope to hell we solve this long before another twelve hours,” Alexander replied. He couldn’t imagine going another hour without having Georgina back safe and sound, and he knew wherever she was, the other missing people would be there as well.

Jacob Tanner lived in an affluent area within walking distance of the college. The town houses were redbrick with white trim, the lawns neatly manicured and the overall maintenance of the dozen or so town houses fresh.

Teachers and professors mostly lived here, with easy access to the campus and the respectable address to give them additional status.

Matt parked in front of the curb of the professor’s place and the three men quickly exited the car. Alexander pulled his gun as he approached the front door. “Matt, go around to the back door. I don’t want him making some kind of escape.”

Matt nodded and left the two. When he had disappeared, Alexander nodded to Nicholas, who drew his weapon and held it at the ready. None of them knew if Tanner was dangerous or not.

Alexander intended to take no chances. If Tanner was Bob, then Alexander would not give him an opportunity to take him down again. There would be no darts in the back with this encounter. There would only be a gun to the chest and it would be Alexander’s gun doing the pointing.

His watch read exactly seven o’clock when he knocked on the front door. It was early enough that Tanner shouldn’t have left for classes yet. “Maybe he’s a sound sleeper,” Nicholas said after they’d waited several moments.