The Numbers Killer

  The Numbers Killer

  An Agent Heslin Thriller

  JENIFER RUFF

  Copyright © 2019 Greyt Companion Press

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7339570-1-4

  ISBN-10: 1-7339570-1-4

  Written by Jenifer Ruff

  Edited by Dan Alatorre

  Cover design by Tim Barber, Dissect Designs

  All the characters in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is a coincidence.

  Visit the author’s website for more information.

  www.Jenruff.com

  Chapter One

  In the dark, decaying woods behind the Sonesta Hotel, fierce gusts of wind cracked brittle branches, and Beth Dellinger’s trembling hand tightened around a 9mm Glock. As she pulled the trigger, something snapped deep inside her brain. Two terrible incidents occurred. A murder—the end of one life—and the inescapable new beginning of another.

  Twisted brambles tore into her skin as she fled down the narrow path toward the parking lot, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm. Only one instinct fueled her. Get away. With ragged breaths, she counted her hurried steps in fours.

  Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-eight, thirty-two.

  She slipped on the incline at the edge of the woods and her bare feet flew out from under her. Windmilling her arms, she hit the ground with a thud and slid down the wet earth, dirt smearing the back of her bare legs, filling tiny scrapes with grime. She scrambled up, looking back over her shoulder, stumbled, and kept moving. Pebbles and beer caps littered the rough pavement and a broken bottle shard sliced the edge of her dirt-caked foot. She had yet to register the pain.

  A nearby train barreled down the tracks with an overbearing whoosh and grind, its horn blaring, intensifying the pulsing blood in her eardrums.

  Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-eight, thirty-two.

  When she reached her car, she stared blankly at a tube of lipstick she was carrying. She had no idea why it was in her hand. With a violent shudder, she hurled the lipstick back toward the woods as if she’d been clutching a hot coal.

  Fumbling for her keys, she yanked the door open, and plopped down behind the wheel. She tossed her purse on the seat beside her, struggling to catch her breath. With a death grip on the steering wheel, she stared through the windshield, seeing nothing.

  What did she remember? Fleeing the hotel. A beautiful woman holding the back door open for her. She remembered screaming, and a fiery pain erupting from her cheek. Nothing more. What had happened next? All she knew was that she had done something bad, something she couldn’t undo. Had anyone seen? She slumped forward on the edge of her seat, hung her head, and covered her face with her dirty hands, wincing when she touched the bruised skin around her eye. A burned stench emanated from her hands—the smell of gunfire. Blood dripped from her foot onto the floor.

  Two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen . . .

  A sudden noise made her jump in her seat.

  “Beth, Beth, Beth. What am I going to do with you now?” Danny bent over and stared from outside the car, his blood-shot eyes level with hers.

  Beth shook her head, squeezed her eyes shut, bit down on her bottom lip between her teeth. A tremor coursed through her veins. When she opened her eyes, he was still peering in at her. He rapped his fist against the glass. “Roll down the window.”

  She turned on the ignition and lowered the window half-way. He glowered at her as wheezy breaths constricted her chest.

  “Are ya happy now?” He pounded the roof of the car with his hand. “What you just did, it’s a whole lot bigger than one of your little identify thefts. You might not get away with it. This time, you might really pay for what you’ve done. As in going to jail for the rest of your long life.”

  Beth clutched the neck of her shirt, gripping it tight.

  “They saw you. You know that, don’t you?” His harsh whisper made his words all the more terrifying.

  She didn’t want to answer him. She didn’t want to have this conversation. But she couldn’t help herself. She had to know what he meant. A lump had formed in her throat. Struggling to swallow around it, she leaned farther away. “Who saw me?”

  “All of them. They all saw you.” He made a sweeping gesture toward the windows lining the back of the Sonesta Hotel. Most were large blackened squares. Some had light peeking out around the edges of the blinds.

  “No. They couldn’t have.” Her voice shook. She studied the windows for a shadow or a flicker of movement, any sign of life behind them. What did they see?

  He gritted his teeth. “Yes, they did.” Each word was like a slap, punching through the air and smacking her in the face. He shifted his weight, still towering outside her window, seeming larger than he really was. “They know because you were screaming like a . . . like a . . .” His face flushed red. Vocabulary was never his strength. “Like a damn crazy lunatic. You know what you have to do now, don’t you?”

  She stared out the window, away from him and the sadistic grin he was sure to be sporting.

  “You’ll have to take care of them before they betray you, too.”

  Her heart picking up a rapid rhythm again. “Ta—take care of them?”

  “What part don’t you understand? For someone who thinks she’s so clever—.”

  Beth cringed. Shoulders hunched, she gazed through the front windshield toward the creepy hotel. She hadn’t liked much about the place since they checked in earlier that evening. It was all dark shadows and ugly carpet. And now, she didn’t think anyone had seen her. But they must have. For a long time, starting soon after their honeymoon, Danny had been dismissive to her, sometimes even cruel. When he was in one of his moods, his brutal honesty—words that seared her soul—delivered more pain than any kick or slap. It had been a long time since she’d seen the once charming man who made her believe she was special. But she didn’t believe he had ever outright lied to her. At least not to her face.

  “I see you’ve still got my gun. And you know how to use it.” He laughed and threw his head back.

  She glanced at the brown metal grip just visible at the top corner of her purse. Another shiver rocked her body.

  Danny spit on the ground. “Now, you have no choice. Unless you’ve got a better idea. Which I wouldn’t bet on. And for Christ’s sakes, don’t do it here. Wait for them to leave or you’ll draw the police right to us.”

  “If I don’t do it here, then how will I find them?” she whispered.

  He laughed, a crazy, maniacal sound. “Use your head. You’re supposed to be the expert hacker. Figure it out.”

  Clenching her fists, she tried to think.

  He pounded on the roof again and startled her. “I have to tell you everything, don’t I?”

  If I’m so unbearably incompetent, how come it’s my hacking jobs that pay for everything we do? Our apartment. This vacation. Your new business venture with its many expenses and no income. Huh? Jamming her finger on the window button, she rolled it up and yelled, “Just let me think!” She squeezed her eyes shut again and covered her ears with her hands. Another train rolled by, drowning out anything else Danny may have said.

  What am I going to do? What should I do? And then, after taking a deep breath, another option occurred to her—what do I want to do?

  One thing she knew for sure—the prospect of jail terrified her. But was she strong enough? What would it take? She straightened in her seat and glanced at the gun again. She would do it. She’d show him once and for all. And more importantly, she’d show herself. She couldn’t be pushed around. She wouldn’t be caught by surprise. Not anymore. This was the new Beth. And she sure as hell wasn’t starting off by going to jail.

&nb
sp; She opened her eyes again. Danny was gone.

  Yes, she could do this. She’d go after them one by one until she was safe again.

  She climbed out of the car and rummaged through her purse for her phone. Hunched over and almost walking on her tiptoes, she crept around the parking lot with cold, dirty bare-feet, taking furtive pictures of each license plate, as good a way as any to get started. There were only twelve cars. The Sonesta Hotel was no one’s dream destination.

  When she finished, Danny was waiting at the car. “We have to get out of here. Now. Before you get caught. Go get our stuff and meet me back here.”

  “Why can’t you—”

  “Just go! Now!”

  Beth hustled inside the hotel. She returned only minutes later with drops of sweat rolling down her temples, lugging two small stacked suitcases, one with a broken wheel, and a cooler. They climbed in their “borrowed” Honda and sped off, driving past the nearest hotel, too close, and parking at the second one they saw. The Vista View sat just off a busy road without a vista worth mentioning in sight. But even before entering, she knew it would be a step up from the Sonesta, which Danny had chosen.

  “Get us checked in,” Danny grunted.

  Beth trudged through the automatic sliding doors and inside the quiet lobby. A man in a navy suit walked in through a door behind the desk. “Checking in?” He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five and his smile indicated he had the energy to be charming despite the late hour. His name tag read, “Ahmad.”

  “If you have a room available.” Beth adjusted her large dark sunglasses. “We don’t have a reservation.”

  Ahmad narrowed his eyes, looked at Beth and then toward the door.

  “My husband is with me.” She cupped her hand around her chin, self-conscious of her tear-stained face, blossoming bruise, the dirt on her clothes.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back. I have to finish . . .” He wiped his nose with the back of his finger. “Just one minute.”

  Ahmad disappeared through a door behind the desk, leaving Beth to shift her weight from one leg to the other and twirl pieces of her hair.

  “You didn’t get a room yet? What’s taking so long?” Danny had apparently grown tired of waiting for her outside.

  Ahmad returned. Beth let out a loud sigh.

  “Sorry about that.” Ahmad dropped his head and tapped on his computer. “How many nights?”

  How long will it take? One day? Two? Can I even go through with it?

  “Better do three,” Danny said, standing too close for her comfort.

  “Four days.” Beth lifted her chin. She scratched at the raised bump protruding on her arm. Had to be a bug bite, although it was too late in the year and too cold for mosquitoes. Something had attacked her in the woods and her body was just starting to react.

  “You’re in luck. We do have a room and it’s available for four nights.” Ahmad smiled at Beth, but his eyes were traveling elsewhere, and she recognized the judgment in his smug expression.

  She frowned and squeezed her fingers into the flesh around her bug bite, simultaneously experiencing pain and relief from the itch. “What number is it?”

  “Two twenty-seven.” Ahmad smiled.

  Her face twisted as if she’d just been bit again. “Do you have something with an even number?”

  Ahmad stared at her for a second longer than necessary, but his forced smile had returned before he dropped his head again. “Let me see.” He poked at his keyboard and leaned closer to his screen. “You could have two thirty-four. It’s across the hall. Would that work for you?”

  Beth let out a sigh. “Much better. Here.” She handed over a new credit card, not the same one they used at the Sonesta. It should work for at least a few weeks.

  Ahmad took her card. “Thank you, Mrs. Malone. And by the way, if you were planning to use the gym, it’s closed. Leaks. Too much rain the past few days. I’m wondering if it’s ever going to stop.”

  Once inside their room, she scrubbed her hands and gently washed the dirt off her face, dabbing at the crust of blood on her lip. What a sight she had been. Staring into the mirror, she tilted her head at different angles, killing time before she emerged.

  With his head resting in the cradle of his hands behind him and his boots on the coffee table, Danny leaned far back on the worn pull-out sofa. Beth stood as far away from him as possible, between the window and the bed. She peeled back an edge of the curtain panel and stared out. A cloud of specks flitted around under a hazy floodlight and the wind tugged at tree branches. More than a dozen cars were parked between painted lines, their flat roofs stretched out long below her. What kind of person owned each of those cars? Grandmothers and grandfathers? Mothers and fathers? Waiters? Salespeople? Assistants and executives? No—not executives, not at this place. And, more importantly, what kind of people owned the cars in the Sonesta parking lot? With a bit of internet research, she was about to find out.

  I can’t do this. “What if I just go to the police and turn myself in?”

  “Ha!” Danny tipped his head back further. “Like I said, you won’t survive a day in jail. But if you do go to the police, I’ll pay a visit to your sister’s house. Have a little private chat with her kids.”

  She scratched the back of her head. Her sister complained incessantly about those kids. Maybe he would be doing her a favor by scaring the crap out of them.

  “Don’t believe me, eh? Remember what happened to her little dog when she crossed me? What was his name? Cootie? No, Coobie. Poor little Coobie. Ha!”

  She shrugged, her shoulders moving the slightest fraction of an inch. It was just an animal.

  “If you don’t do this, you’ll have to spend the rest of your life in a filthy prison. And don’t count on me for any conjugal visits. You’ll be alone forever. Cuz who else would visit you?”

  Beth kept her mouth shut and didn’t respond, even though it was killing her to be quiet. Threats toward her sister’s kids could be rationalized—they’d survive. But she wasn’t going to prison. Prison meant being surrounded by meaner, crazier people than the ones she already knew.

  Danny rattled on. She almost couldn’t bear the sound of his voice, each word dripped with his imagined superiority. She hated him. She also loved him. Didn’t she? She could strangle the life out of him with her bare hands if she had the strength. How she would enjoy watching him struggle and gasp for air until he finally shut up for good. But then she would be alone, and she didn’t want that either. She stormed back into the bathroom and locked the door. She began counting the diamonds on the wallpaper. Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty . . . The tension across her forehead intensified until she reached ninety-six at the top corner of the wall. She pivoted around and opened the bathroom door.

  The room was quiet and empty.

  He was gone, leaving her to pace around and pull at long strands of her blonde hair, coarse from too much coloring. She pulled open the small fridge. A laminated sign stuck to the front said, “You use it, you pay for it.” Her hand shook so hard, a mini-bottle of liquor slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. She picked it up, opened it, and tossed it back. It probably cost more than a whole six-pack, but she didn’t care. Not tonight. Not when she was using someone else’s credit card number. Not with what she was about to do.

  After emptying two more mini-bottles, she opened her computer and got down to business, somewhat surprised by her determination. Danny wasn’t going to leave her alone about this situation until she did what needed to be done. She’d think of it as an opportunity to finally show him who she really was. If she could kill once, she could do it again.

  And again.

  She would survive this.

  Chapter Two

  And now it begins.

  Morning drizzle coated the windshield. Beth started the car to let the wipers clear the glass. After four noisy swipes—they needed replacing—she turned the car back off and drained the last of the hotel lobby’s burnt coffee. Three sugar pack
ets and five containers of fake creamer made it barely palatable. Too bad it hadn’t helped shut off the throb of her hangover.

  Eyes on the young couple, she turned her key in the ignition as soon as their car began to move. With one hand, she reached underneath her seat and felt the metal of the gun, making sure it was where it was supposed to be. This was it. Game on. She was really doing this. Her stomach cramped and demanded a trip to the bathroom, but she had to ignore it. Knew it was just her nerves.

  Kelly and Jason Smith. Twenty-somethings. Married for just over a year. Kelly was petite and curvy with thick, wavy, light-brown hair right out of a shampoo commercial, big brown puppy-dog eyes, and a beautiful smile full of perfect white teeth. Her pink sweater looked soft. Jason wore wire-rimmed glasses, had neat short hair, and didn’t look much older than one of those prep school boys who wore striped ties and navy coats to school.

  Aren’t they just adorable?

  It had been easy to figure out which hotel room they occupied.

  Beth sneered as she followed their candy-apple red Jeep onto the main road. Their heads bobbed. Kelly’s long hair swung from side to side. What was going on inside their car? Oh, for God’s sake—seriously? They were dancing in their seats. Probably lip syncing too. Beth rolled her eyes. A clever, mean thought entered her mind and she almost shared it aloud for Danny, before remembering she was alone.

  She trailed behind the Jeep, maintaining a respectable distance. The drizzle changed into a steady rain. She flipped on her lights and wipers. Following all the rules. Not attracting attention. There was too much at stake.

  Jason was on his way to make a sales pitch to a company in town; his wife came along for moral support. Beth knew this because she was that good. Of course, it helped that people were so willing to share their lives on social media with whoever might be interested. And Beth was very interested in the information Kelly Smith had to share. Kelly’s propensity for posting made Beth’s task of tracking them so much easier. Their every activity was announced online. “Business trip with a side of pleasure because I’m coming with!” is what Kelly wrote on her very public Facebook site. She might as well have hung a sign on her door: “We’re both out of town. Come rob us!” Because it was a simple feat for Beth, or anyone, to find the Smith’s home address. And if they didn’t have anything worth stealing, well, a frustrated thief might vandalize their place for wasting their effort. Beth knew this from experience. The time she and Danny broke into a house and found absolutely nothing of value—nothing they needed, nothing they wanted, and nothing they could resell—they’d taught those homeowners a lesson all right.