Facing Hell (A James Beamer Thriller Book 3) Read online

  “Stop. I’ll go,” Barbara said.

  Norman sighed. “Why do you have to make me look like the bad guy, Barbara?”

  31

  James Beamer

  Winston Salem, North Carolina

  Downtown Winston hadn’t changed. There comes a point when the dead stop decaying. I pulled in behind a patrol car, slammed the Cutlass in park, and jumped out without killing the engine.

  A faint mist hung in the air adding to the chilling effect of the cruisers and ambulance. About twenty feet in front of me was a blue tent with uniformed officers and detectives in cheap suits huddled it. The sickness in my stomach grew the closer I got to the scene. It could be Michelle under that tent, I thought. I knew it wasn’t, but there was no guarantee she wouldn’t be under the next one. A uniformed officer stepped in front of me. I flashed my credentials without speaking. He threw his arms back and moved to the side.

  I recognized two of the detectives from my time with the Winston police. I hoped Alvarez and Mahoney didn’t remember me. Reid noticed my apprehension and walked ahead.

  “What’s going on here?” Reid asked.

  Alvarez turned and looked me in the eye. I tried to divert his eyes with my credentials. “Yeah, I know who you are.” He then turned his attention to Reid. “FBI? This is a little beneath you, I think. Since when did you guys start working homeless disputes?”

  “Homeless disputes?” Reid asked.

  “Yeah, looks like this one they call Smiley…” Alvarez lifted the blue tarp. I recognized the red-headed man even with a good portion of his face missing. “…had a run-in with someone who put a bullet in his head. Probably was the one trying to abduct the girl. No witnesses of course. There never is down here. Everyone is blind. That old guy in the wheelchair saw something, but he sure as shit isn’t saying much.”

  Pipes, I thought. My emotions clouded my mind. Relief that Michelle wasn’t under the tarp stopped me from recognizing this was the exact place where my brother stabbed me and kidnapped Rebecca. Pipes was crucial in helping Reid find us. Two corners over, Pipes turned his back on two uniformed officers. He was still sticking it to authority. I tapped Reid on the shoulder and pointed.

  “Let us know if you find out anything else, fellas,” Reid said, turning away.

  “You’ll be the first we inform,” Alvarez said. Sarcasm dripped from every word.

  “He will recognize me,” I said.

  “Let me handle it,” Reid said walking towards the cops. “What’s the latest, fellas?”

  “Mike.” Pipes wheeled toward me.

  “Long time, Pipes.”

  “I didn’t think I would ever see you again, but boy, am I glad you’re here. I met Michelle.”

  I grabbed the handles on Pipes’s wheelchair and spun him toward an alley. “Call me James. What happened?”

  “A girl showed up. Looked a lot like Sunshine. Remember Sunshine? I thought it was her at first, but that’s impossible, she’s dead.”

  I put my hand on Pipes’s shoulder. “Slow down. What happened to Michelle?”

  “She could have been Sunshine, Mike…I mean, James, it was so weird. She looks just like her.”

  “Focus, Pipes. What happened to Michelle?”

  “We were talking about Sunshine and these two men showed up. One was your father. They tried to take her, but I wouldn’t let them. The muscle guy grabbed my throat. I just knew I was a goner. But this kid showed up and started shooting at them.”

  “Where is Michelle now?”

  “She left with the kid. I think his name was Jessie. I made sure he was a good guy before I let him take her. These streets ain’t no place for a little girl.” Pipes rubbed his throat.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I’ll live. Cold Ethyl is living up to her name though.”

  “Cold Ethyl?”

  “My guitar.” Pipes pointed to shards of wood against the curb. “Guess I’m a cappella now.”

  “Let me help you get off the streets.”

  “I’m a loner, Mike…James. I wouldn’t do well with others. I’ll be fine.”

  I handed Pipes a card and fifty bucks. “Get a good meal and call me if you ever need anything.”

  Pipes smiled. His tongue darted through the gap that used to be his front teeth. He sang the chorus to “Call Me” by Blondie. “Go get your little girl.”

  Knowing Michelle was with Jessie eased my mind. Pipes was right. Jessie was a good kid even though he was a criminal. He would protect her until I could find her. I reached for my phone to call Mack to see if he could locate Jessie. The sound of screaming took my attention away from the phone.

  “That’s my car, you son-of-a-bitch,” Alvarez shouted at the top of his lungs.

  Mahoney chased after the blue sedan. I turned to ask Reid what happened. He wasn’t there. One of the uniformed officers was on the radio, the other looked stunned.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked.

  “Your partner got a call and then just took off. I’ve never seen an old man run that fast.”

  “Look, I don’t know how you do things in the FBI, but around here you can’t go borrowing someone’s car without their permission. It’s called stealing,” Alvarez said as I ran by him to the Cutlass.

  I sat behind the wheel stunned. I had no idea Reid was going or what the hell was happening. I called Jill.

  “Tanner.”

  “Is there anything I should know about?”

  “Well, I lost three pounds on this new diet…”

  “I’m serious, Jill. Reid stole a cop’s car and disappeared. Have you heard anything?”

  “No, I’ll check into it…wait…a fax just came in. Talk to Mack while I go get it.”

  “James, Wallace is playing his endgame. John Hiatt was The Plague Vendor. I knew the guy. I kicked him out of the Academy for bullying Jill years ago. The Vendor thing was a way to get back at me.”

  “What does this have to do with Wallace?”

  “Someone dumped Hiatt’s body at the entrance of the Bureau with a note saying it was a gift from Wallace. Wallace said since you brought him to the light, there was no longer a need to hide in shadows.”

  “Barbara.”

  I heard Jill say, “Tell him, it’s Barbara. Someone kidnapped her from her office. Left a note with the receptionist.”

  “It’s Bar…”

  “There are only a few places Wallace would take her. Mack, get a few agents and go to Statesville where Wallace used to have a cabin. It’s just woods now, but if you’re right, and this is his endgame, he may want to end it where it started. Tell Jill to go to Arlington and interview the receptionist. I’m going to Reid’s house. She can meet up with me there.”

  If Wallace harmed Barbara that would be the nail in Reid’s coffin. I knew Barbara was the only thing keeping Reid from swallowing the barrel of his revolver. Without her, there was nothing left. Chasing Wallace aged Reid beyond his years. I could see it in the wrinkles on his face and the dark circles under his eyes. Barbara was the reason he hung on. He had to protect her. He wouldn’t be in a good place. Getting the call after Barbara’s abduction made him feel like a failure, like he couldn’t save her. I hoped it wasn’t too late to save him.

  32

  Norman Wallace

  Statesville, North Carolina

  “Why did you bring me here?” Barbara asked, trying to create a little wiggle room between her wrists and the plastic tie.

  “What’s the matter, don’t you like becoming one with nature?” Norman pulled the Cadillac to a stop at a point where the gravel road turned to dirt. He shut off the engine. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” He unhooked the seatbelt, stepped out, and stretched his arms. “Can you smell that? Fresh, clean air. I miss this place a little more every day.”

  “It’s not this place you miss. It’s the power you felt taking those women’s lives.”

  Norman leaned down and stuck his head into the car. “Are you still trying to diagnose me, Barbara
? I hate to tell you, but our session is over. I’m not paying you for this.”

  “This one’s on the house, Wallace.”

  Norman laughed. “I’ve always heard the best way to start the healing process is to face your demons.”

  “Is that why you brought me here? Are you hoping to heal?”

  “Barbara, Barbara, Barbara, you’ve been getting inside people’s minds long enough to know there is no healing me. No, this is the place where my demons can roam free without persecution.” Norman opened the passenger door and helped Barbara to her feet.

  “I can walk just fine,” she said, jerking free from Norman’s grasp. “So, why are we here then? You seem to be content with being a sociopath.”

  “Such harsh words. All I ever wanted to do was rid this world of vermin. Filth thrives in seedy environments. You should be thankful for people like me. I’m like a house cat.”

  “How so? In that you kill everything you possible can?”

  Norman laughed again. “It’s been said Phoenician traders were the first to introduce cats to Europe?”

  “Forgive me; I’m not in the mood for a history lesson.”

  Norman grabbed Barbara’s elbow and guided her down a narrow path surrounded by brown weeds and leafless trees. At the end of the path, there was a small stream.

  “The Catholic Church convinced people that cats were evil. Agents of Satan. And all cats should be destroyed. Do you know what happened when the cats were no longer?”

  Barbara struggled to free herself from Norman, but didn’t answer.

  “When the cat’s away, the mice will play. Cats like to kill rats. Without our feline friends, there was no way to control the vermin and the rat population exploded. This little act of God helped to spread the Black Death. All I ever wanted to do was be the cat.”

  Barbara stopped walking. “The women you killed were not a plague. They were not evil.”

  Norman jerked Barbara’s arm. “They were whores. They served no purpose other than spreading disease. That imbecile running around calling himself The Plague Vendor didn’t deserve the name, but he did deserve the ending he received. I am the true plague vendor. I have the power to rid this world of filth or unleash more on the already diseased.”

  “You have no power, Wallace. You’re a coward who got upset because things didn’t work out with Mommy and Daddy and you took it out on everyone else because your home life wasn’t the picket fence dream. Here’s a news flash for you, Wallace, you did the same exact thing to your son. Michelle hasn’t seen her father in years because of you. You split up her family. You’re not the cat. You’re the flea infecting the rat. Nothing but a little flea.”

  Norman let go of Barbara and walked to the edge of a thicket. Just through the brush was a pile of wood. Norman waited a moment before speaking. “I watched Victoria Hoffman for three days before I took her. Watched her every move.”

  Barbara interrupted him. “If you think telling me how you murdered Reid’s mother will scare me, it won’t. I’m not afraid of you.”

  “She pleaded her innocence. I saw through the lies. The only truth in a whore is that she will lie.”

  “The women you murdered weren’t whores. It’s time you faced the truth, Wallace, you’re a sociopath who gets off on playing God. There is no justifying what you’ve done.”

  Norman faced Barbara. He traced her throat with his fingertips. She turned her head and pulled away. He wrapped his fingers around her neck and gave a tight squeeze. After a moment, he let go of Barbara and turned his back to her. “Just through there was the cabin. I can’t remember every detail about them all, but I remember everything about Victoria. The look of fear in her eyes was very similar to the one you just gave me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of dying here today. You will not get the satisfaction of that memory of me. If you’re going to kill me, I will look you in the eye while you do it.”

  Norman stepped on the knee-high weeds in front of him and pressed them to the ground. Each stomp sullied his five-hundred dollar oxfords. Dirt clung to the cuffs of his pants. He had a momentary flashback to the knife piercing Victoria’s flesh for the first time. The blood speckled his white dress shirt. It felt good to get dirty again. Norman patted at his pants, smearing the dirt. “Speaking of looks, there is a look someone gets when they realize they are going to die. It’s a delicious cocktail of desperation and submission. If not careful, one can get drunk on it. By the way, how’s Reid’s sobriety?”

  “Ask him yourself.”

  Norman smiled and grabbed Barbara’s arm. “I plan on it, dear. I just didn’t know if I should supply the booze or if he had his own.”

  Barbara tried to jerk away, but Norman tightened his hold on her, digging his fingers into her elbow. Barbara stopped walking. Norman’s movement caused her to trip and fall to her knees. It didn’t faze Norman, he continued forward through the brush, dragging Barbara. She fell on her side. The rooted ground was harsh, gnawing at her skirt as it hungered for her flesh. She lost one of her suede scalloped pumps when the heel caught a patch of vines.

  “You’re dead weight already, Barbara. I expected a little more life out of you.”

  Barbara struggled to get back to her knees. Norman caught his breath, giving her time to stand. He smiled at her before staring at the pile of wood in front of them.

  A fierce emotional battle waged war within Barbara. Norman had a sick mind. He terrified her. She saw the crime scene photos, read the reports. Norman was sadistic in the ways he cleansed the world of its filth. The only thing keeping the terror hidden was rage. Being tied up as Wallace’s prisoner wasn’t working for Barbara. The two emotions fed off of each other keeping balanced to the point she could contain them. But if she fell to her knees again, all bets were off. For now, she continued to wear the mask of bravery.

  “It’s no wonder your wife left you. You really don’t know how to treat a woman,” Barbara said. Her tone resembled casual dinner conversation.

  “Remarkable poise. Did they teach that at the Bureau?” Norman grabbed Barbara’s arm again and started toward the remnants of his cabin. “My wife didn’t leave me. She’s over there.” Norman pointed to a group of Oak trees. “Somewhere. I’m not quite sure where.”

  Barbara knew that to be a lie. This was part of Norman’s mind games. She didn’t call him on the lie. Instead, she joined him in the mind games. It was her only chance at getting out of this alive.

  “When did you first realize you had the hunger?”

  Norman froze. “Hunger?”

  Barbara recalled reports from Reid’s office where he referred to Norman’s need to kill as a hunger. “A hunger for the kill. It happened to me when I was twelve, I think. I watched House of Wax. There was just something about the power of having someone’s life in your hands. I didn’t think about it often. I tried to force it out of mind.”

  Norman laughed. “What kind of fool do you think I am?”

  “I’ve never spoken to anyone about it. I think it’s the reason I joined the Bureau. I knew the hunger was inside me and if I didn’t find a way to control it, I would act on it. I was ashamed of it. The Bureau beat it into my head every day it was wrong. Being out here with the vestige of death doesn’t make me feel uneasy. It’s almost comforting.”

  Norman walked again. He loosened his grip on Barbara. “I killed Evelyn…” Norman stared at the blue sky through the dead-like trees. He laughed. “I can’t remember her last name. Oh well, Evelyn’s life ended right here on this very ground. She wasn’t the first. Mary Sue Bell owns that honor. I couldn’t forget her name or the look in her bulging eyes as I tightened my grip on her neck, stealing the life from her body. It was good, but I wasn’t ready to uncage the beast. Evelyn helped me set the monster free.”

  “How did it feel?”

  “It felt better when I watched Carol…I can’t remember her last name either, bleed out by that tree. Getting old is just one of Death’s cruel tricks. Come with me.�
�

  Norman released Barbara. She walked behind him to a large Oak. Etched in the bark were the words, Their throat is an open grave, with their tongues they keep deceiving. The poison of asps is under their lips.

  Norman let out a brief chuckle that sounded more like a hiccup. “It’s still here. At the very least, I thought they would have covered it. This is from Romans.”

  “Is this why you cut their throats?” Barbara asked. Her tone was more of curiosity than disgust.

  “Tongues are the most dangerous weapon. Lies hurt more than bullets. The truth is everything wicked starts with a lie.”

  “Like the lies your mother told your father about her affair?”

  “You’ve done your research on me. Should I be flattered?”

  “You fascinate me,” Barbara said. The words came easy. There was a hint of truth in them.

  “I killed Abigail near the water. It was a mistake. I heard the boys playing not far away. I should have waited, but the hunger was too strong. Michael was standing almost in the exact spot as you when he saw me burying her.”

  Norman walked to the edge of the stream. He left Barbara behind. There was no fear of her running. Overgrown weeds strangled the pile of rubble that used to be Norman’s cabin. Even with winter approaching, the trees and weeds were so numerous that every direction looked the same. If Barbara ran there was no escape. Maybe she would get lucky and find the path to the car. Norman had the keys and the closest road was a good mile north of the gravel road. Many years had passed, but Norman still knew these woods. This was his playing ground and his rules.

  “The only regret I have is my impatience on that day. But my lust blinded the bigger picture. ‘Lust’s passion will be served; it demands; it militates; it tyrannizes.’”

  “It shouldn’t surprise me you would quote Marquis de Sade,” Barbara said. A hint of disgust seeped into her tone.

  “Poise and a wealth of knowledge. How did Reid ever catch your eye?” Norman quoted, de Sade again, “‘Lust is to the other passions what nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust.”