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Retribution
Chapter
Thirteen
The Spider turned him
round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the
silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web,
in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready,
to dine upon the Fly.
Mary
Howitt (The Spider and the Fly, 1834)
---
They
dealt in pain. To them, pain was a currency, and it was valuable indeed.
She
moved like a shadow through the house - once beautiful, but now marred by
neglect. Dust covered the antique furniture, the books in the library, the long
oak dinning table. It was no longer a house filled with happiness and life. Now
it was her lair. And in her lair, coiled and ready, she waited.
His
screams had long since ceased to give her pleasure. He was old news. Used up.
Soon he would be dead. She was ready for fresh meat. Fresh pain.
She
wanted to hear Sara Sidle scream.
The
time was approaching. She knew Sara’s mind like she knew her own. She would
come. She would figure out where her lover was and come for him. She would
enter Jill’s web willingly. Sara would offer her life for his.
Jill
would take them both.
---
Attempting
to argue with Sara Sidle, when her mind was made up, was not a task for the
faint-hearted. Nick and Greg tried to reason with her, tried to explain that
there was no point in following the police to
It
was like arguing with a brick wall.
Nick
saw the turn off for
“Just
a few more miles,” he announced, checking on Sara in the rear view mirror. She
had been staring out of the window during the entire drive, a glazed expression
on her face. Nick was afraid of what might happen to her if they didn’t find
Grissom in time. He feared she would break.
---
They
had still heard nothing from the police by the time the pulled up in the main
street of
Nick
parked in front of Priscilla's. The sign in front of the café promised
delicious specials of the day, fresh ingredients, organic coffee and tea.
“How
about we get something to eat while we wait?” he suggested, looking
specifically at Sara. He had no idea when she had last eaten.
“Sounds
good. I’m starved,” Greg said.
“What
else is new?”
Sara
simply shrugged. Nick figured that was as close to a ‘yes’ as he was going to
get from her, and got out of the car.
They
were about to enter the café when something caught Greg’s eye.
“I’ll
be right back. Go on in and get us a table.”
He
hurried off and Nick and Sara went inside. They were greeted by a friendly
waitress who showed them to a secluded booth at the far end, where they ordered
coffee.
They
sat in awkward silent while they waited for Greg’s return. Nick couldn’t think
of anything to say to her - every comforting sentiment dying on his lips. There
was nothing to say, nothing that would comfort. He knew what Grissom meant to her.
He
also knew what Grissom meant to him. He was a mentor, a father, a friend.
Jill’s cruel email played through his head yet again. Its mocking words echoed
in his mind and he began to doubt himself again.
What if they didn’t find
Grissom in time?
Sara
finally spoke and broke the spell.
“I
really appreciate it. What you and Greg have done for me. For Grissom,” she
said. “He’d appreciate it too.”
A
response caught in his throat. Tears threatened, so he said nothing, just
nodded and took her hand.
The
bell over the door jangled and Greg approached their table and sat down.
“What
have you been up to?”
“I
had a brainwave. There’s a realtor down the street who also handles a lot of
the rental accommodation in the area. I showed them Jill and Price’s mug shots,
asked if they’d seen them around or maybe rented them a property lately.”
“And…?”
“And,
no one recognized them. But, they do
have online registration - people can book accommodation with a credit card. If
they do that, they don’t have to deal with anyone in person. So I managed to
talk them into checking the list of properties rented that way for the past
month or so.”
“They
actually gave you that information? Without a warrant?” Sara asked
incredulously. “How?”
“I
have my ways,” he replied with a smirk.
Nick
rolled his eyes. “What he means is, the realtor was female and he flirted with
her.”
“No
one can resist the Sanders charm,” he replied with a wink.
“So
where’s the list?”
“On
their computers. Please, I know I’m
charming, but no one’s stupid enough to break the law just for one of my
smiles. But she did look at the list for me, and neither of our perps was on
it.”
“That
means nothing,” Sara said. “They could be using a stolen credit card.”
“Precisely.
Which is why I called the Sheriff on my way back here. He’s getting a warrant,
so they can check the names against a list of stolen credit cards. And Cindy
has all the information ready and waiting for him.”
“Cindy?”
Nick asked, one of his an eyebrow raised. Anything else he might have wanted to
say was cut off by his cell phone ringing.
He
and the Sheriff shared a brief conversation. The expression on his face made it
clear that the news was not good. He hung up, looking tense.
“The
FBI just got back to the Sheriff. Price doesn’t own property in this area.
Neither do his family members or any friends, as far as we can tell. So we’re
back to square one, for now.”
Sara
looked dejected. She was so sure that they had been close to finding something.
“So what are they doing now?”
“They’re
following up on the lead Greg gave them, and they’re canvassing the area. There
are a lot of privately-owned homes that are rented out to tourists - they could
be using one of those.”
“This
is ridiculous.” Sara slammed her fist on the table. “We can’t just sit around,
drinking coffee, while the police canvas the whole damn town! By the time they
do that, Grissom will be dead!”
Greg
reached out and put a comforting hand on her arm. “We don’t know that Sara.”
“I
know it, Greg. And I can’t sit here and do nothing.”
Nick
rubbed his face, trying to think. “I don’t know what else we can do. We could
start asking around ourselves, but we don’t have jurisdiction. And it’s going
to take time.”
“We
don’t have time.”
Silence
descended as each of them tried to think of a solution. They were backed into a
corner, the evidence leading them no where. And all the while, in the back of
their minds, they wondered if time had already run out.
Sara
forced herself to concentrate, removing Grissom from the equation. She had to
look at the evidence objectively, with no emotion. The way that Grissom had
taught her. Emotions clouded her judgment, made her mind panic rather that
reason the problem out. The evidence was there before them. She just needed to
interpret it correctly. To allow it to speak.
Neither
suspect owned property in the area. But they were both familiar with the
region. Price had already committed at least one crime here. It was a remote
area. Perfect for holding a person against their will. Perfect for disposing of
a body without being seen. He had chosen the area for a reason. Perhaps it was
because it was close to where Sara had grown up. But maybe it was a matter of
convenience.
“The
house. The one the missing boyfriend owned?”
“Gavin
James?”
“Yeah.
Was it ever sold?”
Nick
frowned. “I’m not sure.”
“One
way to find out,” Greg said, flipping open his cell phone and hitting a speed
dial button. “Catherine? It’s Greg. Gavin James’s house, here in
He
motioned to Nick to hand him a pen and a piece of paper, and scribbled down the
information Catherine gave him. Hanging up, he smiled.
“It’s
a private house in Silver Hills, on the outskirts of town. The family hasn’t
sold it, and nobody’s been there since Gavin went missing.”
Sara
sat up straighter in her seat. “That’s where he is.”
“Sara,
we don’t know for–”
“He’s
there, Nick. Let’s go.”
Without
waiting for either of them, Sara bolted from her chair and headed out of the
café.
---
They
pulled off to the side of the private road, outside the closed gates of the
impressive property. The house could only be glimpsed at the far end of the
driveway, secluded amongst the numerous oak and fir trees in the grounds. The
gates were locked and from where they were, no vehicle was visible.
“This
is stupid,” Nick said. “We should call the Sheriff and let the local police
handle this.”
“We
don’t know that there’s anything to handle,” Sara replied. “We don’t want to
distract them from the main search until there’s a reason.”
“She
does have a point,” Greg added. “If we could see into the grounds properly, see
if there’s a car or a light on or something…”
“How
are we going to do that, Greg? The place is surrounded by trees.”
The
interior light flickered on as Sara opened her door. She was sliding out of the
car when Nick reached around and grabbed her arm.
“Where
do you think you’re going?”
“I’m
just taking a quick peek,” she told him. “There’s a lower part of the wall over
there. I might be able to get a clearer view of the house.”
She
shook his arm away, and took off across the road before he could respond.
“Damn
it.” Unfastening his seat belt, he was about to follow her when something
caught his eye. He thought for a moment that he might be imagining things,
until he saw it again.
A
light. Maybe a flashlight or a candle? He saw it glow briefly through the only
window visible from the road. There was someone in the house.
“Greg,
call the Sheriff and give him this address. They’re here,” he said. “I’m going
after Sara.”
---
Sara
reached the low wall and peered through the thick trees. From her vantage
point, she could see the front of the house. It was a striking building made of
wood and stone, a place that, at one time, might have filled Sara with awe.
Now,
it filled her with dread.
Something
caught Sara’s eye. A light, moving past one of the upper story windows, in a
house supposedly abandoned for years.
They
were here.
Mindful
of her injuries, she swung herself up onto the wall and into the property. The
lawn at the front of the house was wide and open, with no prospect of a
stealthy approach. Instead, she kept to the shadows of the trees, making her
way towards the back of the house.
Round
the back, nestled amid yet more trees, was a three-car garage, with what looked
to be a guest house above it. She crouched in the undergrowth and waited,
holding her breath as she watched the property for any sign of where they might
be.
It
was then she heard it. A scream of pain. It was faint, but she was certain that
she had heard it coming from the guest house.
Grissom.
Without
thinking, she darted out from the trees, running for the garage. She didn’t see
the figure watching her from the kitchen door. Didn’t hear the slide of the gun
being pulled back. She didn’t stop running until she heard the unmistakable
voice behind her.
“Not
another step.”
She
turned to see Jill, grinning, pointing a gun in her face.
“Welcome
to my parlor, Sara.”
TBC
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