Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)(5)

“Snakes,” she said when she saw what he had in his possession. “And you. I’m afraid of you.”

He made a sad face. “Too late.”

He dug into his pants pocket for a key, walked over to Garrett’s cell, and unlocked the door. Garrett hadn’t been eating much lately, and his ribs were beginning to show.

For the most part he took the clothes from his prisoners so they couldn’t hide anything in their pockets or use the fabric to hang themselves. Plus, he liked to demean them and make them feel vulnerable.

Hovering over Garrett, trying to see if he was breathing, he kicked him in the shin. When that failed to get him moving, he wondered if Garrett was dead. That would be a shame. The man had lasted longer than most. He’d been there for months, and his survival instincts were strong. When he leaned over to check his pulse, Garrett’s eyes opened. “Kill me. Please. I’m ready to die.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Get up. I have someone I want you to meet.” Garrett’s readiness to die upset him. What made so many of his victims want to give up so easily? He’d endured far worse torture than this. And in the end, it had made him stronger.

Garrett pushed himself up from the ground, his arms shaky, his legs wobbling. The Taser kept his captor in line as he nudged him out the door.

Erin didn’t move a muscle when he unlocked her door and shoved Garrett inside. Once the door to the cell was secure, he sat back down on his stool and watched them, hoping they would interact on their own.

Garrett was usually a social being. He was a professor at Davis. His wife had been one of his students. They had adored each other. But then after only four weeks in captivity, Garrett had misbehaved by drowning her in the bucket of water he’d placed in the cell so they could wash up. He’d said he only wanted to put her out of her misery. Couldn’t bear to see her hurt. Garrett had ruined all his fun, and he’d paid dearly for his mistake.

“My name is Garrett Ramsey,” his prisoner told the girl as he crawled toward her. “Do whatever he tells you to do or—”

“Stay away from me!” She jumped to her feet, her palms covering her small breasts as she kicked her legs to keep Garrett from coming any closer.

He watched them both, wondering what would happen next. But patience was a virtue, and a trait he did not possess. “Kiss her!”

Erin’s back was up against the cement wall. “Stay away from me!”

Garrett looked over at him.

“You know what to do.”

Garrett crawled back to the cell door, pulled himself to his feet, and waited for his master to hand him a weapon. He knew the drill.

He slid the Taser into Garrett’s hand. “Her name is Erin. I want you to Taser her, and then I want you to kiss her while she writhes on the ground. Make it a good one, Garrett. Pretend it’s your wife you’re kissing.”

Garrett had been beaten and abused for so long, he no longer questioned his master’s authority.

Garrett held up the Taser, flipped the switch, and jabbed her in the shoulder.

Erin screamed. Arms flailing, she dropped to the ground. One quick jolt was all it took. As she thrashed around on the floor, Garrett crawled on top of her and brought her mouth to his.

A thump and a howl coming from the other cell made him groan. He walked over to Dog’s cell and banged a fist against the door. “Knock it off in there.”

More wailing sounded, forcing him to pull out his keys. Before he had a chance to step inside, his phone buzzed, reminding him it was time to feed the animals. Garrett and Erin forgotten, he relocked Dog’s cell, then walked back to where he’d been sitting on the stool and began gathering his things. A flash of movement caught his eyes. He looked up, surprised to see Erin standing so close.

Her arm shot out through the space between the bars.

Zap.

The metal tongs pricked the side of his neck. The pain was surprisingly shocking, sending him to the floor. On his side, teeth clenched, he saw her reach for his bag and then struggle to pull it into her cell. There was nothing he could do but watch her dump its contents onto the ground, her fingers clawing through his things.

As Garrett cowered in the corner, the palms of his hands clutching both sides of his head, the girl continued her search, determined to find something that wasn’t there.

He’d been right about her. She was feisty and brave. And he couldn’t wait to discipline her.





THREE

As Colin walked to his car, he inwardly scolded himself for volunteering his services.

His reasoning was twofold.

Number one, he was busy working the Heartless Killer case. The serial killer had been leaving a trail of fear throughout the city of Sacramento for six years now. Every morning before school, parents warned their children to be aware of their surroundings and never go anywhere alone. Even the wariest residents were unnerved.

The FBI profiler who had been brought in to help said the Heartless Killer was a smart, single white male, a loner between the age of twenty-nine and thirty-six who came from a troubled family and had most likely suffered significant abuse. The list went on.

Traits of many serial killers.

Nothing new.

Based on his findings, Colin would add that this particular single white male killer was fearless. He went into people’s homes and took victims from public places in broad daylight without being detected. That was not something a lot of serial killers did. When it came to his victims, the killer didn’t seem to care about gender or age. He wasn’t a sexual predator, but like most serial killers, he enjoyed power and control.