Kidnapping cold case, p.16
Kidnapping Cold Case, page 16
What if it wasn’t enough?
As that thought flickered through her head, more gunfire reverberated from the house. Then the front door opened and Robbie ran out, heading straight for her!
She hit the gas, causing the SUV to lurch forward. Robbie lifted his gun, pointing it at her. The windshield would not prevent a bullet, so she did the only thing she could think of.
Holding the steering wheel tightly, she aimed the front of the SUV toward him. She’d never purposefully struck a pedestrian in her life, but that didn’t stop her from attempting to strike Robbie.
The man who’d ruthlessly killed at least two young girls.
“Stop!” he shouted, his face twisting into a mask of anger. He managed to sidestep the vehicle, reaching out to grab the handle of her driver’s door, trying to wrench it open.
Thankfully, it was locked.
“No!” Using all her strength, she cranked the steering wheel hard, making a tight circle. As she did so, Robbie thumped his fist on the window with such force, she feared he’d break it.
Another gunshot echoed. Robbie turned to look back at the house. Following his eyes, she saw Cash leaning heavily on the door frame, holding his gun, the barrel pointing at Robbie. She quickly noticed Cash was pale and bleeding.
He’d been hit!
Robbie started running away from the house. No! He couldn’t escape! Hitting the gas again, she drove over the rutted ground directly toward Robbie. He was fast and she worried he’d make it to the trees before she could reach him.
Pressing the accelerator harder, the SUV lurched forward. The front bumper struck Robbie in the back of his thighs with enough force to knock him down. She winced as the SUV continued rolling over him.
She hit the brake mere inches from the grove of trees, feeling a little sick at knowing Robbie was pinned beneath the SUV.
Unable to bring herself to drive backward and roll over him again, she opened the driver’s-side door and jumped out. “Cash! Are you okay?”
A hand abruptly grabbed her ankle, yanking hard and pulling her off balance. Robbie was still alive!
Holding on to the door with both hands, she struggled to free herself from Robbie’s grip. But he held on, pulling hard enough that her fingers began to slip from the door. “Cash!”
She saw Cash hit the ground. Had he passed out from blood loss? The pressure of Robbie pulling on her made her shin ache from hitting the lower edge of the SUV.
Then more gunfire sounded. Several shots in a row, without any hesitation between them.
The hands around her ankle let go. Swallowing a sob, she staggered away from the SUV, running to Cash, who was lying on his stomach, his left hand still holding the gun.
“Call 9-1-1,” he told her breathlessly. “I think I hit him, but we need backup.”
“Robbie took my phone.” She knelt on the ground beside Cash. “You’re hurt, Cash. We need an ambulance!”
“Pull out my phone, call 9-1-1.” His voice sounded even more breathless now. “Hurry.”
Patting his pockets, she found his phone. When she pulled it out, she heard a vehicle in the distance. She turned to stare at the squad car that was making its way across the field heading directly for them.
“Cash? Looks like the police are here.”
“Vargas. Finally.” Cash didn’t turn his head to look; his gaze was trained on the narrow space beneath the SUV up ahead. “Go meet with him, let him know White is here.”
She was torn between wanting to stay by Cash to offer whatever first aid she could, and doing what he asked. The thought of getting more help swayed her toward running out to meet Vargas.
Standing in the field, waving her arms, she pointed at the SUV, hoping Vargas would understand what she was trying to say.
Then she scowled, noticing some movement within the trees. She blinked, hoping she’d imagined it. Was it possible Robbie hadn’t been shot? That he’d only let her go to escape?
Acting on instinct and a deep desire to make sure Robbie paid for his crimes, Jacy turned and ran for the trees. “He’s getting away!”
“No, Jacy, stay back!” Cash’s voice was weak. There was no way he’d be able to chase Robbie down.
But she could.
Behind her, the sound of a siren blared. Vargas probably, but she ignored it.
As she grew closer to the trees, she saw Robbie limping away. Surprisingly, the gun was no longer in his grip, and one of his arms hung loose at his side. A spurt of anger hit hard and she increased her pace, gaining on him.
He glanced back at her then sneered as if he wasn’t the least bit worried about her being there. She put on another burst of speed, then launched herself at him, tackling him as if she was a linebacker for the Green Bay Packers. She flattened him to the ground, doing her best to keep him pinned in place.
“Jacy!” Vargas shouted at her.
“Get off me,” Robbie snarled, bucking to dislodge her.
Her body slid to the side, but she quickly tried to straighten herself on top of him. He wore a hoodie sweatshirt, so she grabbed the back of the hood and pulled with every ounce of strength she possessed, causing pressure around his neck.
He sputtered and gagged. Then he grasped the edge of the fabric with his good hand, using his fingertips to ease the pressure. Bucking again only caused her to move back farther, tightening the neckline of the sweatshirt even more around his neck.
“Jacy!” Vargas was there now, his weapon in hand. “Keep a hold of him until I can get him cuffed.”
She gave a jerky nod, doing her best to do just that.
Vargas knelt beside them, grabbing Robbie’s uninjured wrist and slapping a metal handcuff over it.
“Okay, slide over now,” Vargas directed.
Jacy did as he asked, and he took control, putting all his weight on Robbie’s back until he had both wrists cuffed behind him. She let go of the sweatshirt, and moved farther away, breathing hard from exertion.
“Robert White, you’re under arrest for kidnapping and first-degree murder,” Vargas said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” The detective continued reciting the Miranda warning as he hauled Robbie to his feet.
“I’m hurt,” Robbie whined. “I was shot twice by that cop! In my arm and my leg.”
“Yeah, I see that.” Vargas tugged on him, drawing him in the direction of the police car sitting in the middle of the field. “But since you were strong enough to run into the trees, I think you’ll make it to the squad car.”
Robbie turned to stab her with a look of pure malice.
She scrambled to her feet, holding his gaze, letting him know she’d won their skirmish. She made sure he could see how glad she was to know he’d rot in jail for the rest of his life.
Then she thought about Cash and hurried back to where he’d been lying on the ground. To her horror, he was still there, only the gun was on the ground, having fallen from his grip.
“Cash!” She dropped to her knees to feel for a pulse. Cash didn’t move, obviously unconscious. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. “Vargas! Cash is wounded! Call for an ambulance!”
“I did. It’s on the way.” Vargas opened the back door of his squad car, and shoved Robbie inside. Then he closed the door and hurried over to them, his expression grim. “How bad is it?”
“I don’t know.” Tears pricked her eyes and she gently pushed Cash over so he was on his back. There was blood congealed on his right shoulder.
She found his pulse, but it was faint and thready. She bowed her head, praying for God to spare Cash’s life.
Please, Lord Jesus, please? Don’t take Cash away from me!
Losing Cash was too high a price to pay in exchange for having Robbie arrested.
* * *
In the dim recesses of his mind, Cash heard voices. The words were indistinguishable, but when he was jostled, pain shot through him.
“Detective? We’re taking you to the closest trauma center,” a voice said.
He knew that he’d end up in Madison, at the large trauma center there. He groaned and tried to stay focused.
“Jacy?” Her name was little more than a croak.
“I’m here, Cash.” Jacy’s blurred face loomed above him. He belatedly realized he was being carried on a stretcher. His injuries must be worse than he’d realized. “Robbie has been arrested. It’s over.”
“Good.” He wanted to say something reassuring, but he was having trouble staying awake. His eyelids were so heavy. “You.”
“What did you say?” Jacy asked. “What about me?”
Had he spoken out loud? He struggled to bring her face into focus. To repeat the words.
I love you.
But darkness enveloped him before he could utter a sound.
The next thing he knew, he was in a hospital with blinding bright lights overhead. Beeping sounds and more muted voices reached his ears, but he couldn’t see anything because of the lights.
Where was Jacy? Had she said something about Robbie no longer being a threat? Had Vargas arrested him?
And what about the three missing girls from ten years ago?
“Mr. Rawson? Can you hear me?” A man’s face slowly came into focus. “I’m Doctor Harper. I’m the trauma surgeon on duty. I have an orthopedic surgeon on standby, and we’re taking you to the operating room to repair the damage done by the two bullets that struck you.”
Two bullets? He only remembered one. Well, except from the thigh wound where he’d only been grazed. “When?”
“Now.” Dr. Harper looked concerned. “Waiting would add to the risk of infection, which is already bad enough with the dirt embedded in both wounds.”
Okay, that was fair. He’d rolled on the dirty farmhouse floor and the ground outside without paying attention to the grit, being more focused on stopping Robert White from hurting Jacy. “Can I talk to Jacy Urban? And Detective Vargas? Are they here?”
“I don’t know who they are, but there could be people in the waiting room.” The doctor glanced over and asked, “Wendy, is there someone waiting for this guy?”
“I’ll check.”
Cash hoped he hadn’t sent someone on a wild-goose chase. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Vargas would likely have Jacy with him at the precinct, questioning her about the events that had unfolded at the farmhouse.
“Never mind,” he mumbled. “Go ahead with the surgery, Doc.”
“We’re getting the OR prepped now,” Harper said. “If there is someone in the waiting room, we’ll let you see them before we go.”
His eyes slid closed, an odd sense of disappointment washing over him. There was no reason to be upset about being there alone. The most important thing was that White was in custody.
Knowing the serial killer wouldn’t hurt anyone else, ever again.
“I’m sorry, no one is in the waiting room for Mr. Rawson,” a voice said apologetically. “I left a message for the volunteer to inform any visitors that Mr. Rawson is in surgery.”
“Okay, let’s get him to the OR, then.” Dr. Harper’s voice took on a businesslike tone. “Make sure that first dose of antibiotics has been infused before we go.”
“It will be.”
Cash was then pushed through hallways and taken by elevator to wherever the operating rooms were located. Another doctor in scrubs came and asked several questions about allergies to anesthesia or any other meds.
He answered to the best of his ability, since he’d never had surgery before.
Then there was nothing but darkness.
Cash woke to more medical staff leaning over his bed. He was confused at first, until he remembered being shot in the shoulder and thigh.
And undergoing surgery.
His shoulder ached, but the pain wasn’t as bad as he’d anticipated. He tried to focus on the one doctor he recognized from earlier.
“Mr. Rawson? I’m Doctor Harper. You’re in the recovery area. The surgery went well. Thankfully, the damage wasn’t as bad as we feared. We washed both wounds with antibiotic solution. The flesh wound made by the bullet on your thigh has been left open. It should heal fine. We will need to watch the injury to your shoulder more closely.”
Cash wasn’t sure what that meant. A longer hospital stay? He swallowed a groan. He didn’t want to hang around one minute longer than he had to.
Not that he was in a position to argue.
He wanted to ask if anyone was waiting to see him but decided against it. He had no idea how long the procedure had taken, but it didn’t really matter.
Jacy was likely still tied up with being interviewed by Vargas. And if she was finished? That didn’t mean she was planning to show up at the hospital. Hadn’t she mentioned her car being in the repair shop? And with uncovering two dead bodies, Vargas wouldn’t have time to give her a ride.
Maybe it was better this way. A clean break. His time with Jacy was over. She had her life to go back to, and he did, too. Granted, his injury and subsequent surgery meant he’d be stuck on desk duty for far longer than he’d like, but that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
He closed his eyes, doing his best to relax. Jacy was right about one thing, the danger was over.
Still, he wished he’d hear from Vargas about the other three missing women. Surely, Vargas would question White about them.
He highly doubted White would cooperate in sealing his fate on three more murders. Despite how their families had a right to know what had happened.
They deserved closure.
Time passed in spurts of consciousness. He assumed that when they gave him pain meds, he fell asleep, which was probably good for healing, but not great when he wanted to know what was going on.
He woke up for the third time in a private room. The pain was worse now, likely the reason he’d roused. When he shifted in the bed, a sharp ache shot through his shoulder up to his neck and down to his fingers.
Ignoring the pain, Cash took in his surroundings. An IV was connected to a tube in his arm and, craning his neck, he noticed there was a small monitor in the corner of the room displaying his heart rate. Based on the fact that he was alone, without a nurse hovering over him, he assumed his condition was stable.
Painful, but stable.
He didn’t want more pain meds, better to have his mind clear. His brain was foggy enough from the effects of the anesthesia.
He patted his pockets for his cell phone, only to realize he was wearing a hospital gown. He vaguely remembered telling Jacy to use his phone to call 9-1-1.
Maybe she’d stop by to return it in person. He brightened at the thought.
On cue, the door to his room opened. His pulse jumped, the heart monitor beeping faster, but the newcomer was a nurse.
Not Jacy.
“Mr. Rawson, my name is Debra. I’m your nurse for the evening.” She was cute, with dark hair and a sweet smile, but he preferred Jacy. “Would you like more pain medication?”
“No. Look, I need to call Detective Vargas, Dennis Vargas. He’s with the Appleton Police Department.” He pinned her with a serious glance. “Can you help me get the number?”
Debra frowned. “Mr. Rawson, you need to rest.”
“I can’t rest until I talk to him. We were chasing a murderer. I need to know what happened.” He shifted on the bed, drawing in a sharp breath. “Please. I’ll rest after I talk to him, okay?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she reluctantly agreed. “But first I need to check your vital signs.”
“Okay.” He relaxed, trying to bring down his blood pressure and heart rate. No sense in setting off more alarms.
Debra finished up by checking his IV then making notes in the computer mounted in another corner of the room. He told himself Debra would come through for him, and when his door opened again fifteen minutes later, he looked over expectantly.
This time, Vargas himself entered the room. “You don’t look so good, Rawson.”
“Thanks,” he muttered dryly. “I’m glad you’re here. I need to know what happened with White. Did he confess to killing all five girls?”
“No, he’s shut down all communication until his lawyer arrives.” Vargas stepped closer, placing his small disposable phone next to him on the bed. “But it turns out he did confess to Jacy about killing Claire and Suzanna when they were at the farmhouse. And he mentioned Beth, too. Jacy gave a detailed account on everything that happened.”
“He did?” Cash wished he could speak to Jacy himself. Where was she, anyway? If Vargas was here, he could have brought Jacy with him.
Unless she hadn’t wanted to come.
“She endured a lot during the time White had her,” Vargas said. “First he tased her, to get her away from the bridge. Then, when they arrived at the farmhouse, Jacy tried to run away. That time, he shot her with the dart gun.”
“He drugged her?” Cash felt sick at what Jacy had gone through at White’s hands.
“She managed to escape a third time by throwing a glass of water in his face.” A smile tugged at Vargas’s mouth. “Glass included. It slammed into the bridge of his nose.”
“Good for her,” Cash murmured. He had absolutely no sympathy for White. The guy deserved it. “I admit I was shocked when she came running out of the house. I’d taken the time to cut his tires to prevent him from escaping.” He grimaced then added, “Although he still almost got away.”
“He didn’t,” Vargas assured him. “He’s here, getting treatment, too. I’ll be escorting him back to jail as soon as he’s cleared. His wounds aren’t as bad as yours.”
“Good to know.” Cash opened his mouth to ask about Jacy when Vargas’s phone rang.
The detective listened for a moment then said, “I’ll be there ASAP, thanks.” He put the phone in his pocket. “I have to go. White is being discharged. Here, I brought your phone so you could make calls as needed. I’ll touch base with you again, Rawson. At some point, I’ll need your full statement, too.”
