Page 135 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

Dana wanted to scream. She had no voice.

She wanted to run. She couldn’t feel her legs.

She could feel nothing in her limbs. Only a chill on her face was discernible as she stared up at the bright bulb glowing above her—the sole light in a sea of surrounding darkness.

Where the hell am I? Why do I taste blood?

Dana’s memory rushed back, making her instantly nauseous.

It wasn’t hers … the blood she tasted … it was her attacker’s—Levi Monroe.

She’d bit him.

Whatever he’d dosed her with took effect so quickly, biting him had been her only option for defiance before her world went silent. Then the silence slipped into darkness, and everything faded away.

Until now.

Now, she was awake. Her body was motionless, but her heart pounded double time. She struggled to move but her limbs were unresponsive. He must’ve given her some form of paralytic. Was this what he did to his victims? Were they awake while he dismembered them?

Her mind flashed back to the tox screen, then the horrific photographs in the farmhouse attic: victims with their eyes wide open. Panic flooded Dana’s bloodstream. But that was good. Panic meant adrenaline, and adrenaline would speed the drug through her system.

Breathe, she reminded herself. Think.

Dana knew she needed to stay clear-headed.

It was her only advantage at the moment.

Slowing her breathing, she willed calmness into her mind.

Dana managed enough focus to lift her head.

Tilting it back and forth she surveyed her surroundings.

What she saw only deepened her fear. Dana squeezed her eyes shut.

But each blink felt like a curtain call, revealing a fresh new horror when she reopened her eyes.

She was strapped to a metal table, maybe a gurney of some sort.

There was an IV in her arm, but she couldn’t reach it to stop the flow of the mysterious clear liquid in the tubing.

She tried to follow it for a clue to what she’d been dosed with, but the tubes disappeared out of view behind her. Everything else was dark.

A scuffling noise echoed in the distance. Footsteps. Two sets.

She heard their voices and her blood chilled.

“Why did you take her? This wasn’t the plan.”

Dana instantly recognized the voice. It was Landry.

“I improvised,” answered Monroe.

“They’ll come for her.”

“Then we’ll have to work quickly, won’t we?”

The confirmation of Dr. Landry’s involvement was salt in the wound. Dana mentally chastised herself for not trusting her gut. Last year, she would’ve, but after Claire, her confidence was shaken and she no longer trusted herself; to her own demise it seemed.

Monroe’s laughter forced Dana back to the present. He leaned over her, his lips twitching with excitement. “Look who’s up.”

Dana struggled to no avail. It wasn’t her restraints, but the drug that had a forceful hold on her. Dr. Landry skulked into view and Dana did her best to show her disdain with a simmering glare in his direction.

“Feisty,” Monroe crooned. “I’m going to enjoy this. ”

He began cutting away her clothing. First her pants, then her top. He paused to laugh. “I love the effort, but Voodoo won’t help you here,” Monroe said, referring to the protection cross still drawn on her chest.

Dana hadn’t the heart to wash it off after the wedding, which seemed foolish now, since it obviously hadn’t protected her from the grasps of a madman. If anything, it angered Monroe. Or maybe it was her necklace that made his face twist with rage.

“Neither will this,” he growled, yanking the protective talisman from her neck.

Dana watched him deposit it into his pocket and shuddered at the thought of it being added to his trophies.

“Just another stupid tourist buying into the Voodoo hoodoo of this sinful place,” Monroe muttered to himself. He moved faster, rougher now. “You’re no different,” he growled, cutting away the last of her clothing. “You’ll bleed and beg just like the rest of them.”

“H-how…” Her voice was a raspy sound she barely recognized. She swallowed and tried again. “How many?” she asked.

Monroe leaned over her, his eyes dancing with pleasure. “More than you’ll ever know.”

She was in. Dana could tell Monroe wanted to talk about them, his victims. If she could keep him talking, she could buy time. Either for the drugs to wear off or the police to show up.

“The Harvest Girls.”

“What about them?”

“Did you kill them too?”

“That hardly seems important at a time like this.”

“So, you didn’t then.”

He grinned. “I didn’t say that.”

Dana continued to bait him. “I think we already found them all. Your work is pretty impressive, but you’re no Samuel Little.”

“This isn’t a competition!” he yelled. “And I’m nothing like Little. I save people. My harvests provide to the deserving. One miserable waste of a life can save so many others. The real sin would be stopping my work. ”

“Really? You torture and mutilate people. You murder them and sell their organs on the black market all so you can what? Build your kingdom in this abandoned building? The city’s going to demolish it. You know that, right?”

“Maybe,” he purred, getting right in her face. “But not before I finish with you.”

He held up a scalpel. The blade glinted in the light. Without warning he slashed it out of view. Dana’s reflex was to flinch, but her body was still beyond her control. When he brought the blade back to her face, it was painted crimson. Blood. Her blood.

It made her vision blurry as she tamped down on the rush of nausea that rolled over her like a tidal wave.

Frowning, Monroe sighed. “This is the trouble with my little cocktail of medication,” he said, flicking the IV in her arm.

“It keeps you immobile so I can do my work. But you can’t feel a thing.

” He slashed somewhere on her again, raising the dripping scalpel back to her face.

Warm droplets fell onto her chin, her throat.

“And if you can’t feel anything, you won’t scream. ”

He turned to Dr. Landry who’d been cowering just out of Dana’s view. “Ease her off the sedatives. I want this one to scream.” Monroe faced Dana again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”

Once Monroe’s footsteps faded away, Dr. Landry went to work with shaky hands.

Dana still didn’t trust the man, but from the moment he’d walked into the room behind Monroe she knew he was the weaker link.

He was submissive in Monroe’s presence. Even now he seemed apologetic as he gently adjusted her IV.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I have to.”

“You don’t. We can go to the police.”

“No!” he said, suddenly forceful. “He’ll kill her.”

“Kill who?”

“My daughter. My Amelia.” Landry’s eyes went misty. “She’s all I have left.”

Suddenly it all made sense. The way Landry always had the right answers, never obstructing the investigation, but never helping either.

Dana didn’t have time to waste wondering how she’d missed the signs.

“Landry, you have to let me go. I’ll bring the police back here to get Monroe. Then your daughter will be safe.”

“You don’t get it. She’s already here. He’s holding her hostage. I’m sorry, Dr. Gray. I truly am.” She watched him empty a syringe into her IV. “I’ll do everything I can to help you go quickly.”

“No, wait!” But her eyes were already closing.