Chapter 62

SIXTY-TWO

One of the many unusual rock formations in and around Denton, the Overlook most closely resembled a tree-sized monolith, flat and narrow on top, except that one side of it was angled, making it possible for people to walk up to the top. It wasn’t easy but it could be done. If you made it to the top, you usually slid back down on your ass. Noah always said it was like a giant slide. Locals called it the Overlook because the top of it was level with the trees surrounding it.

Josie stared at it as she kneaded her lower back with a fist. She kept her body hidden behind an oak tree. They were in the middle of the forest. Even with all the flashlights she and the other officers had brought, together with some powerful spotlights, the top of the Overlook wasn’t visible from the ground. It was too dark. Her colleagues bustled around her, keeping cover behind trees while they set up a perimeter. A search of the immediate area hadn’t turned up Bell, but they were still taking every precaution. He hadn’t given any indication that he had a gun or that he’d used a gun in any of his crimes, but they still had to consider him armed. He was a threat. If he was at the top of the Overlook, that put him in an elevated position. Tactically, it was very bad for Denton PD.

A burning sensation filled Josie’s stomach. On the way from the mill to the Overlook, she’d choked down an expired granola bar she’d found in her glove compartment. Now it churned uncomfortably in her gut. A heaviness settled in her limbs. Her feet ached. Rest wasn’t even on the radar.

She smelled Noah’s aftershave before she felt the heat of his body at her back. “The drone shows two figures up top.”

“Two?” said Josie. “Can you get a clean shot of them?”

He shook his head. “The university sent a thermal drone this time. It looks at heat signatures.”

Two heat signatures meant that Juliet Bowen was still alive.

“The Chief’s here,” Noah said. “We’re trying to figure out how to approach this. I don’t think we can get a crane out here. We can’t even get vehicles close to this thing. The hiking trail is too narrow.”

“Let me go up,” Josie said. “I can climb to the top. I’ve done it before. In the dark.”

“Too dangerous.”

“If we do nothing, he’s going to stab Juliet Bowen to death.”

“You don’t know that.” Noah glanced around them. His face was visible in the glow cast by dozens of different types of lights. Tension lined his face. “We don’t know what he’s going to do. He changed his protocol. We can’t predict his behavior at this point.”

Noah was right. All along, Bell’s MO had been the same. Abduct a woman. Take her to a remote location. Hit her over the head to disorient her. Don his hazmat suit and stab her to death. Leave a polaroid of the location of his next victim. Then he walked away, stripped off the bloodied suit, and got into a car he’d “borrowed” from Schock’s Auto Repair. Whether he’d stashed it near the scene ahead of time or the mysterious grandmother figure—or someone else—was waiting for him, she still couldn’t figure out. Regardless, with the minor variation of luring Jared Rowe to Harper’s Peak and letting him live, Bell’s actions had been consistent.

Until Juliet Bowen.

Instead of killing her and leaving a polaroid with her body, he’d left one in her bed when he abducted her. Josie wasn’t surprised that the polaroid pointed to her. She was the last person on his revenge list. Though they couldn’t prove it, Josie firmly believed he’d killed Artie Peluso’s wife; Dusty Branson’s mother; and Bud Ernst. They had all lived outside of Denton’s jurisdiction. They weren’t a part of what he was doing now, here in Denton, and yet they were connected. Practice kills, maybe. Except Roger Bell wouldn’t have needed practice.

Footsteps sounded behind them. Gretchen trudged over, Turner trailing behind her. “Well,” she said. “He didn’t shoot at the drone or throw anything at it. I guess that’s something.”

Josie still couldn’t wrap her mind around why Bell was bent on getting revenge on everyone involved in the Cook case. If anyone had cause to seek vengeance, it was Simon Cook. They hadn’t been able to access his new name yet, which meant they couldn’t locate him. Even if Bell’s claim that he’d walked in on the stabbings after the fact was true, he’d gone free. There had been irreparable damage to his reputation, but he’d managed to change his name and start over. By all accounts, he’d lived a happy life with Sheila Hampton and her daughter.

Josie was convinced that Jenna Hampton’s death had triggered his rampage. It was one of the few things about this insane case that made sense. If she was right, that meant he’d truly loved the girl, even if it didn’t line up with what she’d seen in the Cook house. If Bell was going to go on a killing spree provoked by grief, why seek revenge on the people whose mistakes and incompetence had allowed him to go free—to become Jenna’s father? Or, in the case of Andrew Bowen, why try to hurt the man who did his job well enough to ensure that Bell was acquitted? It was almost like he was angry that he hadn’t gone to prison, even though he’d maintained his innocence throughout the trial.

Maybe she was looking at this the wrong way. Maybe instead of trying to fit a thousand malformed puzzle pieces together, she needed instead to focus on only one thing. The Cook case—and this revenge tour—had always turned on one thing. The murder weapon. The knife that wasn’t photographed and that Andrew Bowen managed to keep out of evidence. What if the knife had come in during the trial?

What was she missing?

Turner’s fingers tapped a beat against his thigh. “What’s this guy’s deal? He made himself a sitting duck.”

Noah sighed. “He did, and there are only two ways he’s getting off that rock: in police custody or in a body bag.”

Josie took out her phone and tapped out a text to Sergeant Dan Lamay. She didn’t think he was still on shift, but she knew he’d get her what she needed right away, no questions asked. If he was awake.

“This dickhead was on a pretty good run,” Turner said. “Why change his pattern now?”

“Because that’s what psychotic killers do,” Gretchen said. She, too, looked at her phone. “The other drones are here. I think we can get some light up there. We’re trying to find someone who’s proficient at rock-climbing. Maybe they can give one of us a crash course and we can get someone up there to try to talk to this guy.”

“One of you can take a crash course,” Turner said. “I’m not rock-climbing. Definitely not in the middle of the night. Let that bastard sit up there. Eventually he’ll get hungry or tired and he’ll have to come down. If he decides to do it by throwing himself over, I’m not gonna be upset.”

Josie glared at him. “There’s a sixteen-year-old girl up there.”

“And he hasn’t killed her,” Turner pointed out.

“Yet,” Josie said.

A twig snapped. All four of them searched for the source of the noise. Weaving through tree trunks was Dr. Chris McAllister, a Denton University professor. He acted as a consultant whenever they had need of drones. In his hands was a large controller with a screen in the center of it. As he got closer, Josie saw the neon-pink and -purple colors of the top of the Overlook. Two blurred yellow figures were visible along one of the edges. McAllister paused, thumbs working the knobs and buttons on either side of the screen. Noah left them, walking over to the professor to confer with him.

“What about one of those rescue helicopters?” Turner said. “With the baskets.”

“Maybe,” Josie said. “But the top of that rock isn’t very big. The air might be too much. Plus, you’d have to get Bell to cooperate and actually put Juliet into the basket.”

“This qualifies as a hostage situation.” Gretchen took out her cell phone. “We should call SERT.”

SERT, or Special Emergency Response Team, was a highly trained unit within the state police. They responded to high-risk situations, assisting Pennsylvania police departments that didn’t have their own SWAT teams. They had both a tactical unit and a negotiations unit.

Josie didn’t protest, although even with SERT on the scene, there was still the issue of getting safely to the top of the Overlook. Her cell phone vibrated. A text from Lamay. He must have been at the station after all. She opened the attachment she’d asked for, eyes skimming it. The sweat caused by the thick July air dried on her skin. It felt as though someone was trailing cold fingers up her spine.

Turner said, “What’s up with you, Quinn?”

Before she could answer, the report she was reading disappeared, replaced by an incoming call. She didn’t recognize the number, but she answered anyway.

At the sound of Roger Bell’s voice, the acid already raging in her stomach flared hotter. “Detective Quinn. I knew you’d find me.”

Josie waved frantically to the others to gather around and put her phone on speaker. Noah and Dr. McAllister rushed over. Everyone crowded near her, straining to hear the other end of the conversation. “What do you want, Roger?”

“Oh, so you did figure it out. Or did Sheila tell you?”

McAllister turned his screen toward them. On it, one of the figures dragged the other one toward the edge of the plateau. Juliet’s body appeared to be limp, but it still had a heat signature.

“Let me talk to Juliet,” Josie said.

“Talk to her when you get up here.”

“We’re trying to find a way up there. Unless you want to end this and bring her down yourself.”

“That’s not the ending I had in mind,” he said. “You owe me at least one conversation, Detective. You and me, alone.”

Josie’s pulse raced. She looked at her colleagues. Turner and Gretchen were focused on McAllister’s screen. Only Noah was locked in on her.

“Send Juliet down,” Josie said. “And I’ll come up there.”

Bell’s chuckle was like sandpaper dragging over her skin. “If you want a chance at saving this little bitch, you’ll come up here.”

Dr. McAllister gasped. For a moment, the controller bobbled in his hands. Then he brought the figures back into the middle of the screen.

“Shit,” said Turner. “He’s holding her over.”

Bell pushed Juliet’s upper body past the edge of the cliff. He knelt with one of his legs across her calves, holding her in place. Her body wriggled but Josie didn’t see any of her limbs thrashing. Bell must have restrained her arms and legs. She was helpless up there, at his mercy. Even if she had it in her to fight back or escape and take the stone slide to the bottom, she couldn’t. Through her phone, Josie heard the girl scream. Bell said, “Stop moving or you’ll die sooner than I intended. Detective, I know you can see me. I hear your drone.”

Josie heard the girl whimpering softly. On the screen, her body went still.

“Come on, Detective,” Bell needled. “I’m getting impatient.”

“Stop,” Josie said. “Pull her back! I’m coming.”

She turned to run to the base of the rock, but Noah caught her wrist.

Turner whispered, “Quinn, this kid is his only bargaining chip. If he throws her over, he doesn’t get what he wants. He’s not going to kill her just to get you up there.”

Turner was wrong. Bell would get exactly what he wanted. Revenge on his old defense attorney, the next-to-last name on his revenge roll. In doing so, he’d force Josie to live with an unconscionable choice—a decision far worse than the one she’d made at the Cook residence fifteen years ago.

“I’m not comfortable taking that chance,” Josie said, but Noah’s grip was firm and unyielding.

“Josie,” he said, managing to infuse a myriad of emotions into her name. The tortured look in his hazel eyes told her he wasn’t comfortable risking the life of an innocent teenage girl either.

“I can do it,” she said. “I’ve climbed it in the dark before. I climbed it with Ray tons of times in high school.”

Bell’s voice rose to a shout in Josie’s ear. “You don’t believe me? Let me give you a little more incentive, then. Her death doesn’t have to be fast.”

They watched in horror as Bell yanked Juliet back from the edge. He straddled her prone body. One of his arms reached for something at his side. The video wasn’t crisp enough for them to see what it was but as his hand rose up over his head and then swooped down toward the girl, Josie knew exactly what he was doing.

One stab. Bell’s voice vibrated with anger. “If you’re not up here in five minutes, I’ll keep going.”

“I’m coming. Right now.” Josie hung up and ripped her wrist away from Noah. She sprinted toward the base of the Overlook. Just as her feet touched stone, strong hands wrapped around her upper arms. She fought against them but it was useless. Noah spun her to face him.

“Josie, you promised to always come home to me.”

His reference to their wedding vows sent a little stab of fear right into her heart. Still, her body strained against his grip. Every inch of her skin heated with adrenaline and panic. What was he doing? He knew her. Better than any person alive. He knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t try to save Juliet Bowen, even if it meant losing her job, her entire career, maybe even her life. “You promised to always run toward the danger with me,” she said.

He nodded. “I did.”

Then he let her go, giving her a short lead before scrambling up after her.