Brantley figured in John’s case that was true. He didn’t want to think about what his mother had done to him, what horrific things she’d put him through that had made his brain splinter like that.
In the distance, Brantley could hear the faint sound of sirens. Hopefully they were headed their way.
“She’s gone,” John said, his tone somber. “I couldn’t save her. He didn’t want him to play with her anymore.”
“Who, John? Was it Jack?”
John’s eyes rounded like saucers at the mention of the name. He started shaking his head, a move similar to the way the child identity had. “Don’t do that, Walker. I’m warnin’ you. Don’t do that.”
“Tell me where she is,” he said easily, trying to stay calm.
“He didn’t want Jake to play with her anymore,” he repeated. “I had to. I had to.” The detective stared at him, eyes cold. “She’s gone.”
“Where? We need to get her, John. That’s your job. It’s your job to find them. Help me find her. Tell me where she is. We can save her, John.”
“They’ll find her soon enough. The water’s shallow.”
“Water? Is she at the lake?” Brantley pulled out his phone, hit the button to dial, wishing like fuck he had a direct connection rather than a fucking cell phone. “JJ, I need your help.”
“Where are you?”
He ignored her question. “She’s at the lake,” he relayed.
“Who?”
“One of the women. John hasn’t told me where, but she’s at the lake. Call someone. Have them get over there now.”
“Will do.”
Footsteps sounded to his left, but they were a familiar sound. He wasn’t sure how he knew it was Reese, but he could sense his presence.
“Police are on the way,” Reese said, his gun raised and trained on John when he stepped out of the hallway into the room. “They’re in bad shape, but they’re alive.”
“I can’t let you take him in,” John said calmly, his eyes darting down to the coffee table again. “I can’t let them take Jake.”
“He needs help,” Brantley repeated. “They just want to help him.”
Christ Almighty, he hoped like hell backup arrived soon.
“No.” The tone of his voice firmed, became harder. “They’ll lock him up. Put him in a cage. He can’t be in a cage. Never again.”
The sirens grew louder, approaching the house now.
“John, the police are outside. They’re here to help the women. We need to get them help.”
Clearly ignoring him, John took a step forward, toward the table.
“John, I need you to stay where you are.” Brantley glanced at Reese, back to John. “We’re not done talkin’.”
“We’re done,” he said, taking another step forward.
“John, don’t do this.”
“I have to. I can’t let Jake be taken. They’ll hurt him again.”
“No, they won’t. He can get some help. You both can.”
Another step, then another.
Brantley’s finger shifted to the trigger. “John, stop movin’. Now.”
“I can’t do that, Walker. You know I can’t.”
A few feet away, just out of his visual range, he could hear Reese breathing calmly.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Walker,” John said, his voice odd now. “Jake doesn’t want me to hurt you. He likes playin’ this game with you.”
The detective reached down.
Fuck.
“John, don’t do this,” he warned.
The next few seconds happened in slow motion, but at a speed Brantley could do nothing to stop. A fist pounded on the front door, startling John. He lunged, grabbing a pistol from under a newspaper on the coffee table. Later, Brantley would question why he hadn’t cleared the room, checked for weapons.
In a move too quick for anything but reaction, John lifted the gun…
“Don’t do this, John,” Brantley shouted, the words still hanging in the air when the gun fired, the detective crumpling to the floor.
Dead by his own hand.
***Reese managed to make his way outside after the officers stormed in, the EMTs following close behind. There was nothing anyone could do for John Collins. The man’s brains were sprayed across his living room wall.
Despite all their efforts, despite the fact they had three of the four women alive to see another day, Reese was most disturbed by the news that had been delivered a few minutes ago. Officers had found the naked, severely beaten body of Shelly Masters dumped in shallow water beside a private pier at the very lake she was taken from nearly a year ago.
He wished he could say he was bothered by what had happened, by the fact the detective had taken his own life, but he wasn’t. Not after seeing the state those three women were in. Terrified, tortured, and yes, scarred both mentally and physically by what they’d been through. Reese had no idea what had been the motivation behind the anguish Collins had delivered to those women, but whatever it was, it had come out in the form of white-hot rage.
“You okay?”
Brantley’s hand touched his shoulder and Reese stopped, turned to face him. He didn’t say a word, just met Brantley’s eyes. There had been a moment when Collins had gone for the gun that Reese’s worst nightmare had arisen. For terrifying seconds, he hadn’t been sure what the detective was going to do, but he’d feared that Brantley was going to be the one on the receiving end of that bullet. Reese’s finger had been on the trigger, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to fire before John had done it for him.
