Callahan And McLane: Targeted Part 34

She called another number.

Nora Hawes answered.

"Mason's car is here at the Heidi Nickle residence," Ava blurted. "The house looks dark inside, and I still can't reach him on his cell phone."

Nora sucked in a breath. "I'm sending backup. Wait for it."

Ava ended the call. She'd stopped her car just outside the umbrella of light cast by the outdoor lamps, but her headlights pointed directly at the home. She turned off her car, stopping the beams streaming in the house's front windows, and waited.

Check his car.

She drew her weapon, keeping one eye on the home fifty feet away and another on Mason's car. She darted out of the shadows and directly into the stream of light and peeked in the windows of his car.

Empty.

She tried the door, found it unlocked, and hit the trunk release. With two long steps and a racing heart, she peeked into the trunk.

All clear.

She closed the trunk and car door and made tracks back to her vehicle.

Where are you?

What was the connection to Heidi Nickle? Somehow Mason had figured it out before all of them and decided to pay a visit.

d.a.m.n you, Mason!

She swore at Nora, too, for telling him to keep his distance. If he'd been included, he would have told them about the lead he was following.

The inside of her car was too quiet. She left the door open a few inches, hoping to hear her backup coming at any moment. She froze. Was that laughter?

Huge fir trees rose behind and to the right of the house. She stood and looked over the roof of her car, her gaze trained in that direction.

More laughter. Some screams. But happy screams.

The woods lit up with an orange glow a split second before the sounds of the explosions reached her ears.

She dialed 911 and raced toward the burning woods, her phone at her ear.

His energy was gone, but Mason fought back.

One look at the gallows told him what Scott had in mind.

No f.u.c.king way would he dance at the end of a noose.

Scott would have to kill him, haul him up the steps, and then hang his dead body.

Maybe that's acceptable in Scott's book.

It wasn't in Mason's.

He thrashed and broke out of Scott's grip on his arm. He took three reeling steps away from the gallows and Scott grabbed the collar of his coat. His head jerked backward as Scott yanked him to a stop. Twice Mason lurched his body weight forward to break the grip, but it was no use. Seeing no other option, Mason dropped to the ground and curled up in a ball the best he could with his hands still tied behind his back. He waited for more kicks to his broken ribs.

Lightning flashed behind his eyes as Scott pressed the stun gun into his flesh. His legs shot out in spasms.

"Don't f.u.c.k with me again," Scott said. "I can drag your a.s.s just fine."

He grabbed Mason's shoulders and dragged him the last twenty feet to the gallows.

Four days ago Scott had attached a pulley to the top of the gallows. It'd seemed easier than rigging a ramp. He'd known no victim would willingly move up the ladder to the gallows. Even with a gun in his back. He'd recognized he would need to use his stun gun and pulley. Again.

He'd stashed a small harness underneath, accepting that it wouldn't be easy to haul a body up to the platform. Once the body was on the platform, the rest would be simple. There was no trapdoor. The guilty would be pushed off the platform and the fall would be enough to break his neck. If he didn't die from the jerk of the rope, then he would slowly strangle to death.

He'd wanted to repeat Vince Weldon's death. To get it right this time. It'd been the most satisfying killing, standing and watching the man slowly die, even though there'd been little fanfare afterward. He'd been too cautious, too smooth, too good at setting the stage. He'd researched the marks his stun gun would leave on a body. If he was careful, at the most two small bruises might show up hours after death. He'd set aside his stun gun for the more visible baseball bat head blows for the other three men. No doubt that had caught the attention of the police and medical examiner.

How long will it take for someone to spot the real body among the fakes?

Mason flopped onto the platform and Scott wiped his forehead. Even with the pulley and harness, it'd been a b.i.t.c.h to get the man to the top. Most of the stun gun's effects had worn off, and he was starting to fight again. He'd lost his gag in the struggle up the ladder, but Scott was glad he'd tied his feet again before using the pulley to haul him up the gallows. He had to get this done and get back home. If he moved Mason's car to the farm among all the other cars, they couldn't connect him to the man's death.

His goal would be achieved.

"This place is going to be crawling with cops any minute," Mason croaked.

"Yes, it will be. But not for the reason you think. They have no idea it's me." Scott knelt on the man's back and roughly looped the noose around his neck. Mason froze at the yank of the rope and then thrashed again, knocking Scott off his back. The cop scooted toward the edge of the platform, searching for a way down.

"Go ahead and jump off. You'll speed up my process," Scott said in amus.e.m.e.nt. Mason's eyes grew wide as he judged the distance to the ground. "Having second thoughts?"

Scott checked the time. He still had ten minutes before his distractions were set in motion. But the hayride should be along soon. He sat back, leaning against a pole on the gallows, taking a moment to relish the man's fear.

Mason met his gaze. "Why me?"

Scott frowned. "You don't remember?"

"I remember you. I put it together once I stood on your porch. I'd been a.s.signed as your mentor but had to cut it short."

"You abandoned my mother. You made all sorts of promises to her. You were going to leave your wife and help us start a new life. But once you got what you needed from her, you ran." Scott sneered. "Was the s.e.x worth it, Callahan? Was it worth destroying our lives?"

Mason stared at him. "I didn't make any promises to your mother. I was married."

"I know. But you led her to believe your marriage meant nothing to you."

"Bulls.h.i.+t! I never said anything of the sort and I never f.u.c.ked your mother. She came on so strong at our first meeting I knew I couldn't stay in that situation. That's why I left. She f.u.c.king threw herself at me."

"She did not!" Fury raged through him. How dare he impugn my mother that way.

"She did! Is that why you targeted those other cops? Because your mother sent them scrambling? After she lied to you and told you they were the answer to your prayers?"

"They had it coming! They all used her. Every single man led her on and made her promises and then abandoned us!" I have every right to do this!

Mason shook his head. "I hate to break it to you, but your mother was a liar. That may have happened with another cop or two, but I sure didn't do it. I didn't give her the chance. I was out of there the minute I saw what she was about. She used you-she kept you in the mentoring program to get close to cops."

"You don't know what you're f.u.c.king talking about!" Scott shrieked at the lying cop. Liars! Every last one of them. How dare he blame my mother! "You did this!"

"We have a name for women like your mother-badge bunnies." Mason smirked.

Scott scrambled to his feet, ready to throw the man over the edge. Anger focused his vision. "You-"

Explosions cut off his words and the forest lit up like a fireworks display.

39.

Ava didn't wait for her backup. She'd counted four explosions coming from the woods. Fire licked the trees and the happy shouts had turned into screams of fear. After reporting the fire to 911, she dashed through a garden plot and between shrubs and trees, keeping one eye on the flickering flames that lit up the sky ahead of her. She entered the dense forest and the light from the flames was nearly blocked out. She turned on her camera's flashlight and pointed it at the ground as she ran.

Who is screaming?

A figure dashed across her path, and she gasped at the sight of his b.l.o.o.d.y face.

A zombie costume. The man stopped and she saw a dozen more similarly made-up people catch up with him. "What happened?" she shouted.

"Is this part of it?" he asked her. "Did they add explosions?" The other zombies shouted similar questions. "Where's the hayride?" one asked. They physically shook, looking over their shoulders, their attention going in a hundred directions.

Understanding hit her. She'd stumbled into some sort of Halloween-themed party.

"I don't think that was supposed to happen," said the first zombie, panting heavily.

"Is anyone hurt?" Ava hollered, waving her arms for their attention.

"No," said several zombies. Several of them pointed at the growing fire in the distance. "We can't go back that way."

Ava gestured behind her. "Head that way. There's a white farmhouse and the police should be there any minute. Fire trucks, too."

"What about the graveyard crew?" asked one.

"The what?" Ava asked.

"The graveyard. There're another dozen actors over there waiting to scare the hayride."

"Which way?"

All the zombies pointed toward the fire. It'd diminished after the initial explosions, but grown again as it caught hold of the dry firs. She estimated it was a good hundred yards away.

"I'll go," she said. "Tell the police where I am."

The actors took off in the direction she'd come from. The first zombie paused. "You don't know the way. I know this set inside and out."

She agreed. "Let's go."

He turned and started to jog. "Follow the hayride tracks." Ava followed and realized she no longer needed her phone light to see between the trees. The fires lit up the sky and filtered down between the branches. She was too far away to feel the heat, but the smell of the smoke was almost nauseating.

The tracks led to a clearing in the woods, and she stumbled as she spotted a body hanging from a tree. "Jesus Christ."

Her zombie partner didn't even glance at the body, and she noticed there were a half-dozen more in the trees ahead.

She jogged on, shaking her head. As a kid she'd hated haunted houses and they still held no appeal. This setup would give her nightmares for months. She took a close look at a body as she ran by. The creator had perfectly imitated the gray skin and slack facial expression of death.

A shudder ran up her spine, and she ran into her zombie partner, who'd stopped on the path.

"What the h.e.l.l?" he said.

She looked past him. Two fake gallows lined the hayride's tracks. On top of one, two men struggled. Scott Heuser kicked the other man in the gut.

Scott Nickle.

Heidi Nickle's son is Scott Heuser.

Her legs shook as she made the connection. The task force had been so close.

Scott Heuser had killed the cops.

The other man up there had a noose around his neck and was about to be shoved off the platform.

Mason?

Mason blindly kicked with his feet, not caring where they landed on Scott's body. Satisfaction rolled through him as he saw the stun gun skitter off the edge of the platform. After a long pause, he heard it hit the ground with a thump. It's a far drop.

He kicked and kicked, scooting himself to the safety of the center of the platform. He dug his chin into his chest, trying to get it under the noose, but Heuser had looped it tightly about his neck. Without the use of his hands, it wasn't coming off.

Scott swore at him and scrambled to his feet.

Get him over the edge.

Mason attacked with his legs, feeling splinters from the platform slide into his s.h.i.+rt and pants. His upper arm throbbed where Scott had buried the point of his knife. The knife reappeared in Scott's hand, triggering another round of two-legged kicks from Mason. Sweat ran down his face and his energy dropped to running on fumes. Scott launched himself and leaped over Mason's legs. From the other side, he threw himself at Mason's back and shoved.

Mason shot across the platform, unable to stop Scott's momentum. His head dangled over the edge and he stared down at dirt and pine needles. One more shove sent his body flying off the platform.

He swore he heard Ava scream.

Her heart stopped as he fell.

Screams filled the forest. Her screams.