Vendetta (24 page)

“That was a stupid move, Nikki,” Cooper said. “May I suggest that none of you try and do something foolish or heroic.”

The man with the gun hesitated. “I don't know what's going on, but the woman's made it clear that she doesn't want you around. So if I were you, I'd turn around and walk out of here. We'll make sure she gets back to safety.”

“And I don't know what she told you, but that isn't how this is going to play out.”

“Carl, let them both go. Please,” a woman pleaded from the doorway of the shelter. “Don't get involved in this. He's got a gun.”

“I'd listen to her if I were you,” Cooper said. “Because here's what's going to happen. She and I are going to walk out of here, and none of you are going to follow us. Is that clear?”

No one answered.

Cooper waved his gun in the air. “I said is that clear, because if it's not . . .”

The man with the gun took another step forward. “The problem is that the woman said she didn't want to go with you. I suggest you let her go.”

“You suggest I let her go?” Cooper laughed. “This isn't your fight.”

“Let her go.”

“I warned you. Why does no one listen to me?” Cooper fired off a shot.

The man with the gun dropped to his knees. Blood pooled across the sleeve of his shirt as the weapon dropped to the ground beside him. The woman screamed. Nikki felt her knees buckle as several of the hikers rushed to help him. How had it come to this?

She walked toward Cooper. She wasn't going to endanger anyone else's life.

“That's more like it.” Cooper grabbed Nikki's arm, wrenching her sore shoulder in the process. “Maybe that will teach you to listen to what I say. And for the rest of you, if any of you try to stop me or come after us, I will shoot again.”

He pulled her toward the trail.

“You didn't have to shoot him,” she said, as the shelter disappeared behind them.

“Did you think I was just going to sit back and let you go without a fight?”

“Why don't you tell me what you want and put an end to this before someone else gets hurt? You haven't told me anything. Not about Bridget, or why you want me.” Nikki stopped in
the middle of the path and pulled her arm away from him. He grabbed her again, but she was finished playing games. Finished watching him win. “Tell me what's going on. Where's Bridget? Did you kill her like the other girls? And what do you want with me?”

Cooper hesitated. “You still don't recognize me, do you?”

“I don't understand. Should I?”

“You've been searching for your sister's abductor for ten years. And I've been planning this moment for nearly that long.”

Nikki needed to find a way to get control of the situation. Seconds blurred into minutes as she followed him. Twenty minutes? Thirty? She was no longer sure of anything. Cooper still had the advantage. Not only did he know the terrain, but off the main trails, their chances of running into anyone again were slim. Even if she were able to get away again, she had no idea where the nearest trailhead or shelter was.

I've been
planning this moment.

His last statement played over and over in her mind. But he'd refused to answer any further questions. Clearly he wanted her to believe that he still had the upper hand.

The rain had finally stopped by the time he led her into a small clearing and pointed to a large rock. “Have a seat.”

“You still haven't answered my questions.”

“Patience.” He moved aside a few thick branches, his gun still in his hand, and pulled out a large backpack. “Leaving corporate America was the best thing I ever did. I've learned to stay prepared no matter where I am. With all of the economic downturns, government shutdowns, war in the Middle East—
and more recently Ebola—one can never be too careful.” He unzipped the pack with one hand and pulled out a down vest, while still keeping his eye on her. “Most people don't realize how very little it would take to bring down the highly fragile power grid we all rely on. And out here, you never know, for example, when the temperatures might drop, which is why you have to always be prepared.”

Nikki tried to interpret the nagging feeling that wouldn't leave her alone. Something was still wrong. The basic physical evidence of the Angel Abductor and Bridget's case—in particular the similarities between the Polaroid photos—was strikingly similar. And clearly Cooper—even if he wasn't the Angel Abductor—wanted her to believe he was that person. But beyond abduction of a blond teen and the photo, the similarities in the cases ended. Cooper didn't fit the psychological profile the police had come up with, nor did he fit her own evaluation of her sister's abductor.

The man who had abducted Sarah had managed to stay under the radar for years, careful never to get caught. In contrast, Cooper had left obvious clues he wanted Nikki to find. And for whatever reason had led her here.

She watched him slip on the vest, then zip it up. “You're not the Angel Abductor, are you?”

He laughed as if he'd finally gotten the punch line to a good joke. “I never actually said I was.”

A swoosh of air escaped her lips. “Then if you're not him, tell me who you are.”

He smiled. “I was wondering when you'd figure it out. Your problem was you wanted to see what you wanted to see. You wanted
him
to be behind all of this so you could find your sister's abductor.”

“Why the games?”

He shook his head and dug back into his pack. “You know,
you disappoint me, Nikki, because you still haven't figured out who I am. Especially when I know everything about you.”

“How does Bridget fit into all of this?”

“Bridget was bait. Nothing more.” He pulled out a Clif Bar and fumbled with the wrapper before taking a bite.

“Were you telling me the truth when you said she was safe?” she asked. The more information she could get out of him the better.

“Don't worry about Bridget.”

As if that were possible.

“Just tell me where she is.” Nikki's voice rose a notch. “If this is all somehow about me, then there's no reason to hurt her.”

He took another bite of his bar. “Shouting won't get you anywhere.”

“Then just tell me why. Make me understand.”

“I plan to tell you everything before this is over, simply because I want you to know. And I want to see your reaction.” He chuckled again. “Sending you on a wild-goose chase . . . do you know how easy it was? The beanie. Her cell phone. The photo and the ring.” His laugh sent chills down her spine.

“She was never even in the park,” Nikki said.

“Of course not.”

Sunlight trickled through a small break in the clouds, leaving a whitish glow across the late afternoon skyline.

“Then where is she?”

He took the last bite, then crumpled up the wrapper before shoving it into the side pocket of his bag. “One thing I've learned over the years is patience. You should learn the same thing.”

“If you won't tell me where she is, then at least tell me if she's alive.”

“She's fine, actually. Like I said, this was about you, not her. Do you know how easy it is to make a sixteen-year-old girl think you're some tall, dark, and handsome hero? If I had a daughter,
I wouldn't let her near the internet. It's frightening how easy it was. If they find her soon, she should be okay. For now, though, I'd be far more concerned about yourself.”

“Here's something I don't understand,” Nikki said, ignoring the implications for the moment. “You might not be the Angel Abductor, but you had the photo of my sister. The photo that her abductor left is still in her file. Her abductor must have had a second one. How did you get it?”

“Bravo.” Cooper slowly clapped his hands. “Well done, Special Agent Boyd.”

“What do you know about him?”

“We met a few years ago in prison. Everyone called him the Coyote. Never knew his real name. Never asked.” Cooper rested his forearms against his thighs, still holding the weapon pointed at her, apparently finally ready to talk. “He inspired me. Helped me form my own revenge plot. You're right. He kept photos of all the girls. When we discovered the connection between him and Sarah and you and me . . . It was what I'd been waiting for.”

“And my sister?” Nikki's breath caught. Ten years with no solid leads. Had Randall Cooper become the closest connection she had to her sister's abductor?

“Sarah Marie Boyd.” He shook his head. “I don't know what happened to her, actually. He refused to tell anyone—even me—the details of his crimes.”

She stood up. Frustration ripped through her. “You're lying. You have to know something. He gave you her picture.”

“Yes, but I don't believe you're in a position to accuse me of lying.” He held out the gun, then motioned for her to sit back down.

Nikki hesitated, then obeyed. “You'll never get away with this.”

“Why not?” He pointed to the thick brush surrounding them. “Look around you. There's nothing but miles and miles of
wilderness. If I want to disappear, no one will be able to find me. But you know that as well, don't you?

“And I know what you're thinking,” he continued. “That they'll come and find you. Except that it will be dark soon, and a nighttime rescue is never easy. I've seen them work and know how they do it. They call the search and rescue coordinator for the park. Bring in Anderson. Set up a conference call with local law enforcement in order to make a rescue plan. They'll appoint section chiefs, logistics, and someone to handle the media. It will be an all-out manhunt as they try and find one of their own. The storm will be an inconvenience, but they're lucky it isn't snowing. If it was, they'd have to pack zero-degree sleeping bags, long johns, pads, tents, and military meals. But none of that will matter, because I'll always be one step ahead of them.”

Nikki refused to let panic set in. She heard a whistle nearby, and she recognized the small songbird her father had dubbed the preacher bird as it sang short-whistled sermons all day long. A coyote howled in the trees, sending eerie chills up her spine.

“Ironic, isn't it. But don't worry,” he said, watching her. “They sound closer than they really are.”

“Who
are
you?”

He stood in front of her and started pacing. “You really don't remember me, do you?”

“No.” She searched his features for a glimmer of recognition. The scar across his cheek. Dark eyes. Narrow brow . . . She waited, but there was nothing. He could be anyone. From someone she arrested, to a relative of someone she'd sent to jail. A decade of law enforcement had put her at odds with dozens of people. And all it took was one person with a vendetta . . .

“It's been just over eight years since you saw me last. I've changed, I suppose. Lost some weight. Took on a few gray hairs. Got this scar on my face from a car accident.”

“So we've met.”

He had to be someone she put in prison. Someone who believed he was innocent and who blamed her for his incarceration.

“How about I give you a clue?”

She was tired of the games, but escape at this point was unlikely. She had no supplies, and besides that, she'd never find her way out of here. Anyone with any sense was hunkered down in a shelter, prepared to ride out the next wave of the storm.

He squatted down in front of her. “You were a lowly beat cop back then, working with your partner. Miles Fisher.”

Nikki's mind churned as she tried to organize the facts he was giving her, but she was still not sure where he was going.

Miles was her first partner. She had been new on the force. Still focused on finding Sarah, but determined that others wouldn't go through the horror she and her family were going through. In the meantime, she paid her dues working traffic stops and handing out tickets to offenders.

“There was a call one afternoon that you and your partner responded to,” he continued. “A robbery in progress. Someone was attempting to hold up the local convenience store. Do you remember yet?”

Nikki searched her memory. Over the past decade she'd responded to dozens of robberies.

“This time was different.” Any hint of a smile he'd had earlier had vanished. “This time you killed a man.”

The accusation felt like a bullet hitting her own chest. She drew in a mouthful of air. That had been the first time she'd ever killed a man. And all these years later it still haunted her.

He sat back down across from her. “So you do remember, after all. They say when you take a life, especially the first time, it's imprinted on your mind forever.”

He was right. It had been raining that day, just like today. And every second of that call had been imprinted on her mind. The layout of the store as they'd walked in. The store owner.
And the face of the boy she'd killed as they zipped up the body bag and put him in the back of the coroner's van. She and her partner had responded to what she'd assumed would be simply another routine call. Instead it had made her question everything she believed in.

“You knew the man who was killed?” she asked.

“You say that like you weren't responsible for his death.”

“He robbed the store, then pulled out a gun and threatened to kill the store owner. Threatened to kill me and my partner.”

“So noble. But the truth is that you killed my brother that day. Brian didn't deserve to die. He wasn't even supposed to be there. And I . . . I ended up burying him. I think about that afternoon. Every. Single. Day.”

Her breath caught. It had taken a long time for her to learn that she couldn't take responsibility for another man's sins. Though even that hadn't been enough to stop the nightmares that followed. “Your brother pulled a gun on me.”

“You didn't have to shoot him. He was eighteen years old.”

“Old enough to know there are consequences for threatening to kill a police officer while holding a loaded weapon. Which was exactly what he did.”

“Do you remember what he stole that day? A pack of cigarettes. He panicked, but it wasn't worth his life.”

“I agree it wasn't worth his life,” she said. “But you can justify the situation all you want, and it won't change anything. I can't change what happened that day.”

Six months of counseling had helped to ease the guilt, but the weight of taking a man's life had never completely faded.

Cooper stood up again, his boots crunching on the damp undergrowth while he paced. “Unfortunately, the judge agreed with you. But for me, it's given me eight long years to plan what I wanted to say to you. Eight long years to finally confront the person who took my brother's life and ruined my family. My
mother was never the same again. She died in a hospital room, still grieving the death of her baby boy.

“Within six months I'd lost both my mother and my brother, and not too long after that, my boss accused me of fraudulent practices,” he continued. “Do you know how hard it is to get a job—a decent job—when you have a felony on your record? I always wanted to be a ranger, but with my background they wouldn't even look at me.”

“So you found a way to change your identity.”

He nodded. “It's amazing the people you meet in prison. I knew I'd never go back to the corporate world. A new identity gave me the freedom I needed to do what I wanted.”

“You met the Angel Abductor while you were in prison?” she asked.

“We became friends. Interestingly enough, he wasn't in for what you might think. With all of his previous crimes, he was caught for fraud, like me. Crazy, isn't it?”