Page 25 of No Escape

If it wasn’t, she and Suzie were more than likely to be caught by authorities before they had a chance to stop this madness.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Will had rarely seen such activity at a crime scene. He left the car and stood next to Charlie in the sun on what should have been a quiet suburban street in Beauford Town.

“I don’t understand why there are so many reporters,” Will said.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” was all Charlie could reply.

Charlie and Will walked over to the house in the stark sun, and the scene was electric.

Cameras flashed as reporters swarmed around them like buzzing bees, asking questions and reaching out with microphones. The pair plowed through the crowd of onlookers, heads down and faces grim. When they reached the porch steps, a reporter stepped forward and asked if he could get a quote.

“Is it true that one of the escaped patients from Shady Pines is an FBI agent?” the reporter asked, jostling for space.

“We’re only here to consult,” Charlie said, cameras trained on him. “I can’t tell you more. Now if you excuse me.”

“Our sources tell us you are Agent Charlie Carlson, and you are Dr. Will Cooper,” the reporter continued. “Isn’t it true that your partner, Valerie Law, is one of the escaped patients and may be in cahoots with serial killer John Murphy?”

“Let me tell you something,” Charlie said. “Valerie Law is the finest agent I’ve ever worked with, and she’s saved countless lives putting away killers like John Murphy. She would never, ever, assist someone like that.”

“Then why is it being reported that she and her sister are on the run?”

There was a silence. Photographers snapped pictures and television cameras stayed trained on Charlie’s face.

“If Valerie Law is out there somewhere, it’s with one purpose in mind,” Charlie finally said. “To catch the killer before he takes another life.”

Will and Charlie finally pushed past the reporters. As they did so, Will couldn’t shake the thought of Valerie facing down John Murphy alone with no weapon or backup other than Suzie. He wondered momentarily why she still hadn’t tried to contact them, but then an answer came quickly to the surface of his mind.

They’ll put her away where she can’t help… And she’s protecting us from the liability of helping a fugitive, Will thought.

Suddenly a flash of light from a photographer’s camera shook him from his internal dialogue. He and Charlie were now past the mob.

At the top of the stairs in front of a town house, Charlie flashed his FBI badge to a police officer on guard duty.

“Right this way, sir,” the officer said. “Our detectives are busy interviewing some neighbors, but I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you,” Charlie said, still hearing the snapping of pictures from behind.

Will moved forward with Charlie, entering the house where a macabre scene awaited them. The pungent smell of blood, death, and fear clung to the air like a spectral presence, and Will shivered involuntarily. He exchanged a somber glance with Charlie before they proceeded further into the dimly lit house.

The interior was in utter disarray, furniture strewn about and personal belongings scattered haphazardly. It was evident that John Murphy had not shown any mercy to his aunt and uncle. As Will stepped gingerly around the remnants of the shattered living room, a cold, sinister sensation wormed its way down his spine. This was undoubtedly the work of a truly deranged and malevolent mind.

Charlie knelt beside the lifeless form of Martha Williams, examining the grisly tableau. “He’s getting bolder,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “No sign of forced entry. He must have picked the lock or found another way in. And look at how he positioned their bodies—it’s as though he’s trying to convey a message.”

Will scrutinized the harrowing crime scene, his face ashen. “What kind of message, though? And for whom?”

“Maybe to us,” Charlie suggested, his voice tinged with grim determination. “Or to Valerie. He knows she’s hunting him, and he wants to taunt her, show her that he’s always one step ahead.”

As they delved deeper into the scene, they discovered a note on the kitchen table, its edges stained with blood. Will picked it up gingerly, using gloves, and read it aloud. “To my dear family, thank you for the warm welcome. Your hospitality will never be forgotten. Love, John.”

“The bastard’s mocking us,” Charlie growled, anger flashing in his eyes like lightning. “He’s not just a cold-blooded killer; he’s playing a twisted, sadistic game with our lives.”

Will exhaled a heavy sigh, feeling the oppressive weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. “We need to find Valerie and Suzie before John does. And before the police catch up to them.”

Will walked back to the bodies, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked at Martha and Albert again, and something about them caught his eye. Their eyes were closed, as if they were merely sleeping. Will called Charlie over.

“Look at this, Charlie. Their eyes are closed,” Will said, pointing, uncertainty in his voice.

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