Taken by Tuesday
Page 67She shivered, wondered if anyone above knew a psychopath lurked beneath.
Her pasty lips stuck together when she attempted to find moisture. She’d never directly dealt with someone who was clearly twisted, wasn’t sure if she could talk sense into him or not.
His dark eyes watched from the shadows, unnerving her. Perhaps that was his goal?
“Mitch?” She attempted to use his name. “It is Mitch, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer.
The next breath she pulled in made her shiver. The room was cold and an occasional draft blew in from behind her.
“I’m not your enemy.”
Silence.
Then she heard a squeak from the corner of the room followed by something with tiny legs running.
Rats.
Things like that never really bothered her . . . not in a girlie, squeal and jump away kind of way. But she was half-lying on a cold floor without a way to escape the things.
From the corner, Mitch started to laugh, and Judy knew her lack of concern for rats was about to change.
It was past ten. Judy was officially missing.
Didn’t bother Rick in the least that he paced like a caged animal outside the office building while arson detectives did their job. The only injured people in the building were from the floor where the first bomb exploded. No doubt now it was set . . . along with smoke bombs placed in various parts of the building.
The whole thing was a diversion . . . a distraction to remove Judy. He knew it the moment he heard about the blast. Now it was confirmed.
In a van parked beside that of the media who’d finished their live shots for the late news, sat Russell and Dennis, who were searching the feeds generated from the office before the explosion.
“You son of a bitch. Spent all your time on the wrong guy and now she’s missing.”
Raskin held up his hand. “Everyone is looking for her.”
The hell. Like that’s enough!
Dean stepped in and pulled the detectives out of the way.
From the van, Russell called Rick over. “What do you have?”
“This is the last few minutes before the explosion.”
They’d seen it before, but it didn’t have sound.
Judy stood with her back to the camera, bent over her desk.
A kid, midtwenties at best, filled the cubicle doorway. “Miss Gardner?” The sound was muffled.
“Can you turn that up?”
Russell upped the volume.
“I have a delivery for Mr. Archer.” The kid had a box in his hand. Looked away for a moment and then back again.
“He’s gone today. I’ll take it for him.” Nothing looked out of the ordinary with the exchange.
“What happened?” Judy’s sweet voice stroked Rick’s heart.
The kid jumped back, pushed his hand behind him. Nervous. He’s anxious.
“I don’t see much here, Russell.”
“Wait.”
The footage was void of anything, and within seconds the explosion was heard and screams of people reacting to it filled the footage. Strobe lights and fire alarms blared.
Mitch moved into the frame as he passed the people running toward the stairs. Judy wasn’t seen in the mass exit. Neither was the kid.
Rick clenched his fists. “Rewind that to get a clear shot of this guy.”
“Got it.”
Rick sent a whistle in the air and captured Michael’s attention. He motioned the man over, pointed at the image on the screen. “Ever see this guy when you’ve visited Judy?”
He shook his head. “Can’t tell you.” Michael turned around, waved to a few people he had been standing next to.
Rick recognized Judy’s boss. Debra Miller sat huddled under someone’s oversize coat.
Michael directed the woman’s attention to the screen. “Do you know this guy?”
Debra looked closer. “A courier. I think. Delivers stuff but doesn’t work for us.”
“Know his name?”
She shrugged. “My secretary handles deliveries.”
Much as Rick hated to bring in Raskin and Perozo . . . they had an entire police force to tap into where he and Neil didn’t. “Dean?” Rick called his friend over. “I need to know who this guy is.”
Dean stood beside Raskin and Perozo as they watched the footage.
“Neither does Judy.”
If I show fear, he’ll exploit it. That was obvious when he’d spread peanut-butter-covered bread close to her . . . taking great pleasure in smearing the sticky stuff above her knee. Why had she picked a skirt today?
She couldn’t determine the time, but her stomach growled and her eyes were having a hard time staying open. If not for the fear of closing them, and the need to pee, she would be asleep already.
The first rat took the peanut butter offering, bringing her wide awake in a heartbeat. Her back stiffened against the old metal box she was propped up against. From the corner, she watched Mitch eating the bread as if it were popcorn.
She shoved the rat away with her foot, and found another one willing to come in close for the food. Her first scream moved them along . . . but the second didn’t do much other than make them pause before finding the food.
Her eyes locked on the four foot-long varmints fighting over the food when she felt something brush against her hand. It jumped, landed on her lap, and Judy lost it.
The rat squealed, its tiny feet clawed into her bare thigh. Her screams didn’t stop the tiny beast as it scented the food and ran in circles. A flash of light blinded her.
The bastard was taking pictures of her.
Only with the bright light, the rats scurried into the dark.
“Priceless,” Mitch managed.
Judy kept screaming. Someone had to be nearby . . . someone would hear her.
Mitch lifted his voice to match hers. Yelled the word help at the top of his voice.
“Do you think I’m that stupid, General? I assure you, I’m not.” He advanced then, dropped his hands to her ankles, which were covered by her long boots, and kept her from kicking him. With a free hand, he covered the peanut butter and smeared it up her thigh.
She couldn’t stop the few tears that spilled, but she didn’t cry out when he pinched her by squeezing her bare skin.
“It was only a game,” she told him.