I Can Kill: An FBI Thriller (The O'Reilly Files Book 1) Read online

  She paused to cry some more, then she used his legs to pull herself to her feet. She slipped the key into the slot and turned. Jordan’s right arm was now free.

  They looked over at the sound of the door opening.

  Footsteps began to descend the stairs.

  76

  “SORRY GUYS, THAT was my wife—” Kent stopped speaking when he saw Jordan fumble with the key to get his other arm loose.

  Jordan managed to unchain himself and fall to the ground with a soft thud.

  “Really?” Kent said with a smirk.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Jordan hissed. “You killed Duke.”

  Kent saw the anger flash in the reporter’s eyes.

  It was amusing.

  “Go ahead, then,” Kent taunted, spreading his arms. “You want to fight? I’m right here.”

  With a growl, Jordan lurched toward him, but Kent managed to dodge out of the way. Jordan ran headfirst into the wall.

  Kent grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled him to the ground and kicked him in the face, then kicked him again.

  He continued kicking him until Jordan managed to block one of the kicks and pull Kent on top of him. They rolled along the floor until Kent found Jordan’s neck and began squeezing.

  “I don’t have time for this,” he hissed.

  Jordan grasped at Kent’s hand, but couldn’t get him to let go. Finally, the reporter passed out. After making sure his old friend was still breathing, Kent dragged him back to the wall and heaved him to the chains to secure him.

  He turned to face Cheyenne, who had curled herself in a ball against the far wall.

  “That was a mistake.”

  “Please,” Cheyenne whispered as he neared.

  Ignoring her, he kicked her in the face.

  “You must be punished.”

  He walked over to Jordan.

  “For attempting to help Mr. Hero escape, he will take the punishment. And you have to watch. Then I think I’ll take off early today. The wife wants me to run a few errands for her.”

  He looked at Jordan, who was slowly coming to.

  “You ready for your punishment, buddy?”

  “You’re insane,” Jordan replied, his voice above a whisper.

  “Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say.” Kent turned his lips to a frown. He grabbed the tire iron and swung it across Jordan’s knees.

  The reporter cried out in pain.

  “That’s so if you do manage to get out of your chains again, you won’t be able to walk. You’ll crawl. Like the disappointing slug that you are.”

  Kent hit him again.

  “You know,” he said after Jordan finished screaming, “at first, I didn’t want to let you in on my little secret because I really liked you. But truthfully, I think this brings us closer together, right?”

  Jordan glared at him. “You know what, buddy?” he said through his teeth, “I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for whatever happened along the line that made you become pathetic.”

  Kent only laughed. He looked back at Cheyenne. “Can you believe this guy?”

  He began walking toward the agent’s girlfriend. As she whimpered, he pulled her back to where he had laid the tarp and tossed her on top.

  “No one made me this way,” Kent said, his eyes on Cheyenne. “A man has needs. You know, like you need to feel important at the top. Agent O’Reilly needs a chill pill. This is mine.”

  “You need to grow a pair,” Jordan exclaimed.

  Letting his shoulders rise and fall, he said, “I need to finish up so I can take off.”

  77

  THE TRACE ON Kent’s cell phone led the agents to the West Lake subdivision. They pulled their vehicles to the next neighborhood. They didn't want to risk tipping Kent off by moving in too close. It was still daylight, so they didn’t have a lot to their advantage.

  Shaun and Aidan, along with a few other federal agents and members of the SWAT team, put on their vests and began to trail along the sidewalk, weapons ready to fire if needed.

  Aidan hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but they were given the authority to use whatever force necessary.

  Aidan spotted a little girl peering out her window in the house at the left. A few seconds later, an older boy looked out, then jerked her by the arm to pull her away. Aidan instructed for some of the agents to start clearing nearby houses. Aidan didn’t want to chance they would find themselves in the line of fire.

  They were now at the front of the house. Ten agents and SWAT members circled the back of the house, five taking the sides and the rest, including Aidan and Shaun, were stationed in the front.

  Aidan reached over and tried the knob slowly, but found it was locked.

  He nodded to the men holding the battering ram. Once they rushed the door, flash bangs were tossed inside, then the agents filed into the residence.

  They continued to maintain radio silence as they spread throughout the house.

  Inside was dark and cold—Aidan could see his breath climbing the air.

  A few men headed up the stairs while the rest took the bottom level. Shaun noticed the door by the staircase.

  Standing to one side of the door, Aidan held his weapon at the ready and he let Shaun reach for the knob.

  Then the lights went out.

  Except for Jordan’s arrival and stupid attempt to escape, Kent decided things went pretty well today.

  He was happy.

  And the escape attempt allowed his adrenaline to rush. It was exhilarating.

  Turning to face the reporter, he said, “You’ve been quiet, my friend. I’d almost forgotten you were here.”

  Jordan didn’t seem to be in the mood for chatting since he’d taken the harsh punishment for trying to escape. The gray duct tape was now red due to the blood.

  “What do you think of this idea?” Kent said. He stepped over to where Jordan hung and leaned against the wall next to him. “How about I do both Agent O’Reilly and his little woman a favor and go ahead and kill her? I can do that when I come in tomorrow. I’ll bring you some pain killers and we can make a party out of it.”

  Jordan’s eyes were closed, so Kent slapped him until he woke.

  “Don’t fall asleep yet. I really want your opinion.” He smiled and leaned into Jordan’s ear. “We can catch it on camera. We can film her taking her very last breath. Then I’ll leave it for our FBI friend to enjoy.” Kent laughed. “It’d serve him right, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Kent stepped away from the reporter and moved to where the girl lay semi-conscious. He knelt and placed his hand on her chest to be sure she was still breathing.

  She was.

  “After all,” Kent said, “he did accuse you of killing those women.”

  He heard a loud bang coming from upstairs, followed by a pop and soft creaking.

  Placing a finger to his lips he said, “Shh. I think we have company.”

  Kent ran to the fuse box, switched the lights off in the house, and hurried to grab a fistful of brown hair in his hands. He dragged Cheyenne to her feet and backed away toward the desk where he had created an ideal exit. He’d learned the last time not to have a point of operation unless there was an easy escape.

  He gripped Cheyenne’s hair and prepared for whoever it was that decided to visit.

  He secretly hoped it was the agent.

  Shaun opened the basement door and Aidan pointed his gun down the stairs. It was dark below.

  With Shaun close behind him, Aidan took one slow step, then another until he reached the bottom. He heard a sound to his left, and when he looked, he saw Jordan Blake hanging in the dim light of the flashlight.

  Through the blood trickling down his eyes, he saw Aidan too.

  He motioned toward the back of the basement. Aidan nodded that he understood.

  “Grant Rivers,” Aidan said into the darkness, edging closer to the back. “Show yourself.”

  Kent found himself pleased that Agent O’Reilly knew his real name.

&nbs
p; Go figure.

  He continued to prove he was a worthy opponent.

  “Okay,” he called. “We’re coming out. But let me warn you, I wouldn’t start shooting if I were you.”

  When Kent spoke, he sounded as though he were singing.

  Well aware of the blood pumping in his veins, Aidan gripped the gun’s handle, trying to steady his shaky hands.

  “We’re coming out,” Kent announced again.

  When he appeared, he held a woman in his arms.

  But not just a woman.

  Cheyenne.

  78

  Cheyenne’s face was almost unrecognizable. One eye was swollen shut, the other swollen open.

  Her lips torn open.

  Blood dripped from her wounds.

  Her knees seemed to be busted, and Aidan could only imagine what the rest of her insides looked like.

  The nightgown she still wore clung to her body and had begun to tear. He saw the bruises on her skin and he wanted to shoot Kent square in the head. But he couldn’t risk that he'd hit Cheyenne.

  She cried as Kent held her in his arms.

  “Let her go,” Aidan demanded.

  “I do that, and you’ll shoot me.” Kent smiled. “So, guess we’re at a standstill.”

  “You let her go and I won’t,” Aidan said. His vision began to cloud. He couldn’t see anything except the serial offender who held onto his girlfriend as if she were a shield.

  “But we’re having too much fun,” Kent said in mock excitement. “You know, you have excellent taste in women.”

  Cheyenne shrieked as he jerked her head back.

  “This one really is something special.”

  Aidan's mind raced, trying to figure out how to get Cheyenne away from him.

  Shaun moved to the side, while another agent flanked Kent from the other direction. Aidan remained in the center.

  “Uh-uh. Get back,” Kent warned. He revealed a switchblade and positioned it against Cheyenne’s throat.

  Shaun and the agent stopped moving.

  “Okay, Kent,” Aidan said. “Why don’t we talk about this? Okay? I’m setting my weapon down now.”

  Kent watched as Aidan did as promised.

  “Send everybody else up.”

  “Forget it,” Shaun snapped, his weapon still pointing at the target.

  Aidan kept his hand in front of him to show he wasn’t going to do anything rash. His eyes on Kent, he told Shaun to go back upstairs. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not leaving you with this maniac,” Shaun hissed.

  “Go,” he insisted. “Please.”

  Shaun hesitated, then began to back away, ushering the others to follow.

  He kept his eyes on Kent the entire time.

  Using his thumb, Aidan pointed to Jordan. “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s fine, aren’t you, buddy?” Kent said. “We had a few issues here and there, but I think he finally figured out for once to just shut up.”

  Aidan glanced at Jordan hanging on the wall, trying to keep his head up.

  “I’m sure the tape helps,” Aidan replied, turning back to the cameraman.

  “How’d you finally get smart enough to catch up with me?” Kent asked.

  “Your first victim. She was your sister.”

  “Adopted sister,” Kent corrected. “I could not stand her, you know? Always gotta be in my business.”

  “So you took care of it.”

  “Yeah. I did.”

  “When you killed her, was it planned? Or did something she say set you off?”

  “Well,” Kent said with a sigh. “I’d fantasize about it. But I was only seventeen, you know. I didn’t know what I was doing. I grabbed the knife and just started poking her with it until I realized she was dead.”

  “Then you killed Karen Jones by strangling her with your hands a few days later.”

  Kent shrugged. “I had an itch. After my sister died, I felt...excited. Hey! A little trivia for you! Did you know Karen was my first real girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Well, now you do. She nagged me the same way my sister did. I think she wanted to break up with me that night. I can’t really be sure.”

  “Why did you keep changing your MO? First, you used a knife on your sister, then you used your hands, then stockings, until you decided on switching to fishing wires and tasers.”

  “The knife was too messy,” Kent said as though they were having a normal conversation. He gestured with the knife he held as some did with their hands. “I got blood on the walls, sheets, myself. Let me tell you something: it is not as easy as it looks getting blood stains out. Even with Clorox 2, which my dear mother worshiped. Or bleach. The whole thing was too messy to bother with.”

  Kent laughed as though he told a joke. Aidan kept an eye on his weapon in case he found an opening to dive for it, but Kent was careful. He seemed to know he was only trying to distract him. Despite being figured out, he appeared confident things would still turn out the way he wanted.

  Aidan started wondering if he planned on them finding him here.

  If he wanted to take things to the next level.

  “And it took too long for them to finally die if I strangled them with my hands,” Kent continued. “Even my third victim, I had to beat a brick over her head because she was just too stubborn to die. The stocking did the trick, but it was too clean. I liked seeing a little blood. So enters the fishing wire.”

  Cheyenne squirmed in his arms, forcing him to pull her hair back.

  “It was enough blood to satisfy me while not leaving a mess.”

  Kent put his lips to her neck and bit her.

  She whimpered.

  “And the tasers, I thought it’d be interesting to try. I saw a man get tased once by the police. He was a big man too. Like a sumo wrestler or something. Anyway, when he got tased…” Kent chuckled at the memory, “...he squealed like a pig. So, I thought it’d be interesting to try. Some of my women passed out, which was a bit disappointing. But most of the time, it was fun.”

  He sighed.

  Aidan still didn’t have a way to get to her without risking Cheyenne’s life.

  “Well, it’s been loads of fun. I hate to cut and run, but, well, I’ve gotta run.”

  Before Aidan realized what was happening, Kent sliced Cheyenne’s throat and pushed her toward him.

  He caught her before she fell to the ground. Aidan held her throat to keep the blood from oozing out.

  “Shaun!” he hollered up the stairs. “With one hand on Cheyenne’s neck and the other on the radio, he said, “He’s escaping from an opening in the basement. I repeat the offender is escaping.”

  When the last word came out, Shaun and a few of the agents flew down the stairs, weapons at the ready.

  But Kent had already gotten out.

  “We need a bus,” Shaun called through the radio. “Person of interest Grant Rivers aka Kent Ory is en route. He’s wearing a plaid blue dress shirt and a pair of jeans. He has wire rimmed glasses and auburn hair. Use whatever means necessary to bring him down.”

  “It’s okay,” Aidan told Cheyenne. “You’re going to be fine, baby. I’ve got you.”

  Shaun found a towel to place on the neck wound.

  Agent Douglas was in the process of unchaining Jordan from his shackles.

  Aidan looked at Shaun, who gave him a quick, solemn nod, letting him know he understood what Aidan was thinking.

  Kent Ory was escaping again.

  79

  AIDAN RODE WITH Cheyenne in the ambulance as Shaun remained behind to process the crime scene.

  The EMTs had patched Cheyenne’s neck and gave her medicine to help ease the pain, but keep her alert. Aidan held her hand.

  “You’re doing good, love,” he told her.

  She still couldn’t speak, but the tears behind her smile told him she felt safe. He told her he loved her, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  When they arrived at the hospital, the orderlies worked t
ogether to rush Cheyenne to the operating room. Since Aidan couldn’t go inside, he lingered outside the door, pacing the floor.

  His phone vibrated against his hip, so he answered.

  It was Laura.

  “I just got home, what’s happening? Where’s my sister? What happened to my bedroom? Aidan, answer me!”

  “It’s okay,” Aidan told her, trying to calm the frantic girl. It didn’t work, and he understood what she was feeling. “Cheyenne’s fine. She’s in the operating room now at Georgia Regents.”

  “She’s what!” Laura demanded. Aidan heard something bang on the other end of the line. “I’m on the way.”

  Before he could respond, Laura ended the call.

  Aidan leaned against the wall. Despite saving Cheyenne, he was feeling defeated.

  Kent had escaped their grasp again. However, now that they knew who killed ninety-two people and attempted to kill three more, they had the upper hand.

  “Agent O’Reilly.”

  Aidan glanced over to see Monroe with Zane at her heels, walking his way. He must have been deep in his thinking to not hear her shoes clunking loudly against the floor.

  “Agent Henderson briefed us. How is Cheyenne?”

  “Still in surgery,” Aidan told her with a frown. “I haven’t heard from Shaun yet. He got away, didn’t he?”

  Zane nodded. “He escaped on foot through the neighbors’ yards. But we do have an APB out on him and alerted security at the airports, as well as set up roadblocks. I’m confident we’ll get him.”

  “I don’t know,” Aidan muttered, staring across the hall. “He’s smart. He doesn’t do anything unless he planned for it. That includes his escape.” Aidan looked back at Monroe. “I have a feeling he was glad we found him out.”

  Monroe narrowed her eyes. “You’re saying he wanted us to catch him?”

  “He didn’t want us to catch him, really,” Aidan told her. “I think he wanted to up his game. Push himself close to the edge and see how far we’d go.” Clearing his throat, Aidan added, “To see how far I would go. When he left that album, he had to know we’d find out his first victim was his sister.”