Kiss the Girls

CHAPTER 69.

WE TRAILED the Range Rover at a discreet distance, straight back to the cabin. I parked about a quarter of a mile up the road. My heart was hammering hard and loud. This was the moment of truth, the real deal was going down now.

Kate and I ran back through the woods and found a safe spot that was well hidden from view. It was less than fifty yards from Dr. Rudolph's hideaway, and we could still hear the musical tinkle of the wind chimes as they moved gently. The cold, damp sea mist was inching in, and I could feel a chill right up through my shoes.

The Gentleman Caller was inside that cabin up ahead. Getting ready to do what?

My stomach felt hollow and incredibly tight. I wanted to move on him in the worst way. I didn't want to think about how many times Dr. Will Rudolph had done this before. Taken a young woman somewhere. Mutilated her. Taken home feet, eyes, fingers, a human heart. Souvenirs of his kill.

I glanced at my wristwatch. Rudolph had been inside the cabin for only a few minutes with the blond woman from Nepenthe I'd seen movement in the woods on the other side of the house. The FBI was there. It was getting hairy.

“Alex, what if he kills her?” Kate asked. She stood close to me, and I could feel the heat from her body. She knew what it felt like to be a captive in a house of horror. She understood the danger better than anyone.

“He doesn't grab his victims and kill them immediately. The Gentleman Caller has his routine,” I said to Kate. “He's kept every one of the victims for a day. He likes to play. He won't break away from the pattern.” I believed that, but I didn't know it for certain. Maybe Dr. Rudolph knew we were outside ... maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I remembered stalking the madman Gary Soneji/Murphy. It was hard not to rush the cabin. Take our chances right now. We might find physical evidence of other murders inside. Maybe the missing body parts were kept here. Maybe he did the actual killing here in Big Sur. Or maybe he was planning another kind of surprise for us. The drama was unfolding less than fifty yards away.

“I'm going to try to get in a little closer,” I finally said to Kate.

“I have to see what's happening in there.” “I'm glad you said that,” Kate whispered.

The talk was cut short. A bloodcurdling scream came from the cabin.

“Help! Help me! Somebody help me!” the blond woman screamed.

I ran at full speed for the closest door into the cabin. So did at least five men in dark blue Windbreakers from the other side of the house. I spotted Asaro and Cosgrove among them.

FBI, the Windbreakers read. Rain-slicker yellow on navy blue.

All hell was breaking loose in Big Sur. We were about to meet the Gentleman.