1
Chapter Seven
The rain had started up again by the time Peter arrived at the cabin. Not a heavy rain, but it was enough to be an irritation. Then again, Peter thought with a smirk, if there's going to be a possibility of fire, a little rain might come in handy.
It was close to midnight and the darkness would work both to their advantage and against them. There was little doubt in his mind that Stamper would have traps in place, just in case Peter brought backup. The prevailing darkness would make moving about in the terrain outside the cabin hazardous to say the least, but the darkness would also hide their presence. It was the yin and yang of darkness in covert ops. That thought made Peter smile for some bizarre reason, then he thought of his father.
Peter couldn't deny the fact he missed his father, especially right now, most especially when facing the possibility of death. He prayed Pop and Lo Si were both well and safe. A hug from either man would strengthen his spirit a thousandfold. Peter had learned long ago, he needed his friends and family around him, maybe because he'd already lost so many he'd cared about.
Peter sighed as he tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. It was time to move on, to get things started, but a voice deep inside of him warned him to proceed with extreme caution – to think out each move, instead of acting instinctively. Willie Stamper was a very dangerous man, and not just because he was a demolitions expert and mentally unbalanced, but also because he was the only man in the world who knew exactly where Mary Margaret and Kelly were hidden.
Peter realized his hands had gripped the steering wheel very tightly during his dark thoughts, so he made his fingers relax. Peter had been chilled ever since leaving the hospital. Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the uncertainty of what he and his friends would be facing. Whatever the reason, he was cold. He turned up the heat as he sat in one of the department's vehicles with its engine idling, looking down the road leading to the cabin. He'd just changed places with Kermit a minute earlier, taking the wheel as Kermit went to hide in the trunk.
A sudden flash of lightning was followed by a clap of thunder. Biting his lip, Peter hoped the increase in the storm's intensity wouldn't compromise the presence of the others. They were already moving into position. A flash of lightning at the wrong time might prove fatal for them.
Paul and Blake had just checked in. They had come in from the lake using a rowboat to be as silent as possible and were down by the dock. Jody and Chin had already arrived via the same route, and were in position on opposite sides of the structure, hiding in the lush forest area, just waiting for Peter to approach the cabin.
Peter took a deep breath. It was time to get going.
As if reading his mind, Kermit's voice came over the ear piece Blake had given him. "Riding in the trunk isn't my preferred mode of travel, kid. Let's move things along."
Peter grunted and pressed on the accelerator. "I hear you," he whispered, "You'll be out soon enough."
Peter took the road slow and easy as he used his memories of the cabin to visualize what was ahead. From what he could see from the road, the cabin looked dark. In fact, the whole place looked deserted, even though Peter knew that wasn't the case. Stamper was there, hiding somewhere with Kelly and Skalany, simply awaiting Peter's arrival – waiting to kill him, because he considered Peter to be his rival and the only hindrance to a life with Kelly. Peter shook his head at the sheer madness of it all.
Thinking back to Paul's orders, he went through the specific role for each detective on the team. His was simple enough. Just keep Stamper talking long enough for them to locate the missing women, or at least long enough to gain whatever information he could from the man who held all the answers. He had no illusions that Stamper was going to make this easy for him. None at all.
As Peter approached the cabin, there was a barrier of several fallen trees on the gravel road that led to the parking area. "It's beginning, Kermit. He's got the road blocked off. I have to leave the car now."
"Pop the trunk, and keep your eyes and ears open. He's probably not going to announce his first move, just spring it on you."
Peter grunted. "Yeah, well, that's a newsflash," he paused, softening his tone. "Keep your head on a swivel, Kermit. He could have this place booby-trapped from here to kingdom come."
"Oh yeah," Kermit said, using his standard response, "That goes without saying. I'll keep him in my sights and take him out if it looks like he's about to make his killing move on you. Just remember we'll be listening in on your conversation. If things go south, say the word and we'll be there."
Kermit smiled at Kermit's assurances. Blake had woven a microphone into the lining of Peter's shirt, so they would be listening in, but that didn't mean jackshit if Stamper acted without warning.
"Don't rush things either," Peter said quickly, "Stamper's holding all the cards right now. I need to keep him occupied for as long as I can. I know I can make him talk."
"Just don't push him too far too fast, kid. All you need to do is keep him busy."
"That's the game plan," Peter whispered, "I just wish we had a better hand to play."
Kermit grunted. "I've seen you play poker. You'll do fine no matter how the cards are laid out. Remember you've got backup, so you aren't doing this alone.
Peter cleared his throat nervously. "You sure that Stamper won't be able to pick up this radio frequency? He's no idiot when it comes to technical equipment. He was a top rated Navy Seal before they kicked him out... "
"Blake says if Stamper could pick up this frequency, he'd announce his retirement. In other words, no way."
The comment made Peter smile, a tiny little private smile that Stamper couldn't possibly see. "Okay, well, I'll see you after we've finished."
"Roger that. Stay sharp."
"Removing ear piece," Peter announced, and then he slowly set his feet outside the car after pulling the trunk latch.
He wiped his damp palms over his jeans as he prepared to stand, listening to the muted sounds of Kermit moving in the trunk. Kermit wouldn't leave the trunk until Peter was out of the immediate area. He slowly closed the car door as his gaze swept around the area.
There was another blinding flash of lightning, then the thunder shook the air, and the rain began to fall a bit harder.
"Stamper?" Peter called out in his strongest voice possible.
He stepped around the recently erected barrier and approached the darkened house, shouting Stamper's name again when the man didn't appear. He came to a stop within twenty feet of the cabin and stared at the front porch and shivered. The cabin's absence of normalcy clutched at his heart. He'd always associated the cabin with beauty, peace, love and family, and it had involved some of the best times of his life. Now, the place looked dead.
Dead. He didn't want to think of that word while looking for Kelly and Skalany. No, he had to think positive, they were going to find them alive – anything else was unacceptable. He thrummed his fist against his pant leg and shouted, "Damn it, Stamper, show yourself already. With this rain, I might catch my death of cold if I stay out here much longer."
Stamper stepped out from behind one of the columns on the front porch facing the lake, holding a gun on him. "Cute, po-lice-man, very cute."
"I try," Peter said, putting up his hands, but ready to move at a moment's notice.
"I bet that's why Kelly liked you. She always liked guys who could make her laugh."
"Do you honestly think you can make her laugh again after everything that's happened?" Peter asked, his gaze taking in Stamper and the area around him, watchful for booby traps.
Stamper grunted. "It'll just be a matter of time before she comes around to me again."
Peter forced himself to remain civil. "Maybe," he said, taking a few steps closer as he studied Stamper more closely. "Then again, Kelly can be hell on wheels if she's not happy about something... but you'd know that if you knew anything about her. Speaking of wheels, she's not gonna be real quick to forgive you for wrecking her Mustang. She's fanatical about that car... "
"I know everything I need to know about Kelly, asshole," Stamper sneered, glossing over Peter's last comment. "Don't presume I don't know her. I know what makes her laugh and what makes her cry. We were made for each other, you know. Kindred spirits. Though I'll never understand what she saw in you."
Peter smirked. "It's my winning personality," he said with a smile.
"Some personality. I saw you two arguing just a few days ago outside your apartment building. I followed her after she left you. She went to a nearby park and cried for a good long while. I'd never make her cry like that."
Peter took a deep breath, disturbed that Stamper had followed them around so easily, even more disturbed by the fact that he'd left Kelly crying and vulnerable. Stamper could have snatched her right then. Peter licked his lips as he considered his next words carefully.
"You're right," he said as he brought a hand to the back of his neck and paced a few steps. "I was wrong to let her get so upset. Kelly needs lots of love and attention – no, she deserves it, and I just can't always give it to her when she needs it most."
"Asshole," Stamper said, stepping closer. "You deserve to die just for that alone."
Peter nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm an asshole, but I grow on people. Really, once you get to know me, I'm not so bad."
Stamper grunted. "Caine, I'm not going to be around you long enough to care. Okay, it's time to start. Put your hands on that post and spread your legs."
Peter sighed, moving slowly, but did as ordered. He didn't try to keep the irritation out of his voice as he said, "You said to come unarmed and that's what I did."
"No sudden moves or you'll pay for it," Stamper warned as he came up behind him, then frisked him. When Stamper got to the Kevlar vest, he laughed. "What the hell do you think that will do?" he asked.
Peter glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "You didn't say anything about protection, just weapons."
"Cute. Now, take it off," Stamper said as he nudged him with the muzzle of his handgun.
"It was worth a try," Peter said, not relishing the thought of taking off his jacket in the drizzling rain.
He turned, facing Stamper, and shed his jacket, then the vest. The chill in his bones only grew. He started to put on his jacket again, but Stamper stopped him. "Keep it off."
Peter frowned. "It's kind of cold up here."
A mad glint came into Stamper's eyes. "You won't have to worry about that for very long. In fact, it's gonna get a lot hotter for you soon."
Peter swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to think of questions to throw at the man that wouldn't antagonize him. Finally, he asked, "What attracted you to Kelly in the first place?"
Stamper looked surprised by the question, then irritated. "What do you think? She's beautiful, both inside and out. So many women only worry about how they look physically. Kelly was different, way different than most of the sluts that came into my bar. She didn't belong there. She was too good for the place. She was too good to be around 'them'."
Peter's gaze narrowed. "You mean the prostitutes you killed?"
"Scum of the earth," Stamper muttered. "Just like cops. Though, I've never set a cop on fire before. Ought to be interesting."
Peter cleared his throat. "You did try at the hospital... "
Stamper smiled broadly. "That? Oh, that was just foreplay. Trust me, if I'd wanted to kill you back then, you'd already be dead. Besides, what are you complaining about, you got out of it without too much damage."
"Easy for you to say," Peter muttered, unconsciously rubbing the bandage covering the burn on his hand.
Stamper circled him. "I just don't get what Kelly saw in you. Sure, you're a good looking guy, but Kelly looks for more in a man. She looks into your soul. I remember the first time she looked at me like that. It sent shivers down my spine. That's when I knew – that's when I really knew we were meant to be together forever."
Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "If she's so damned important to you, why are you risking her life right now?"
The words tumbled from his lips without realizing it and Stamper's reaction was immediate. Stamper took a step closer. "It's because I do care for her so much that I have to do this – so that we can start our new lives without anything from the past to hold us back. She'll be mine and she'll love every moment of it, especially when I show her how a real man makes love to her."
Peter stepped forward, seeing red, but realized what he was about to do and backed off, biting his tongue to keep from saying a dozen things that sprang into mind. He wanted to tackle Stamper right then and bash his brains out, but he couldn't. For Kelly and Skalany's sake, he couldn't. His hands balled into fists and he silently counted backwards from ten.
"What? No comeback, Caine? I'm surprised. I've kept up on you. The news has you pegged as a hothead who lives to shoot his mouth off. Seems to me you're keeping your cool pretty good. Why is that, po-lice-man?"
Peter let out a long breath and tried to look relaxed. "What's the point?" he said quietly. "Like you said, I'm a dead man."
Stamper smiled. "Yeah, you are, but not right away."
Peter couldn't hide the smirk that followed. "What? Are you toying with me for the hell of it?"
Stamper smiled smugly. "I do what I want when I want."
Peter knew deep down that he wasn't going to be able to give the others the full half hour they'd planned on, but he was determined to draw it out as long as he could.
"Why fire, Stamper? What's the attraction there?"
Stamper pulled out a lighter and turned it on. He stared at the flame, mesmerized. "Can't you see it? The way it consumes itself? Purifies everything it touches? It's amazing... "
There was such awe in the man's voice, but when Peter looked more closely, he saw madness reflecting in Stamper's eyes, madness intensified by the flames. Peter realized his mouth had gaped open as he'd watched Stamper and he closed it slowly, then took a deep breath.
"That's what you were doing when you killed those women? Purifying them?" he asked, knowing deep down that he should change the subject, but couldn't quite manage it. His curiosity was up, his patience down and he was tiring of the game.
Stamper looked at him, as if he'd forgotten Peter was even there. "What? Are you trying to analyze me, cop? Well, back off!"
He snapped the lighter off and on again, several times in rapid succession. "I've had people trying to get inside my head for years and I always outsmart them. That's why I'll win this little game between the two of us and Kelly will be mine forever!"
"Stamper, if you know anything about Kelly, you'd know she chooses what she does and who she sees. That was the whole problem. She never considered you as a lover. Never."
Stamper's expression contorted in rage and he took another step forward, but then turned and paced the width of the yard, putting some distance between the two of them. "Liar! All cops are liars! And liars get paid for their sins!"
Stamper pressed a series of buttons on a panel on his vest and explosions went off in Peter's vicinity. One of them had enough concussive power to knock Peter off his feet. He hit the ground hard, the force knocking the air from his lungs, and then he didn't move, except to try to breathe.
The only good thing about the explosives were that they weren't incendiary devices or else he'd already be burning. Peter was sure the fireworks wouldn't be too far off.
Stamper leaned down next to Peter and grabbed a handful of Peter's hair as he pulled his head back. "Did I ever tell you how I learned to use fire? I was an explosives expert in the Navy Seals, but they gave me a dishonorable discharge after deciding I liked to play with the accelerants a little too much. Go figure. It wasn't like I was doing anything wrong, just ridding the world of a couple of hookers. They could never pin their deaths on me, but they still kicked me out for being mentally unstable. Imagine that. Me, mentally unstable."
Peter grunted, but hadn't recovered enough to speak. 'No shit, Sherlock, you're about as loony as they come.'
Peter's hand found its way to his injured side, pressing tightly against the ache throbbing there. And judging by the sensation of moisture under his bandages, he figured some of his stitches had opened up again. At least he wasn't burning... Not yet.
oOoOoOoOo
Paul and Blake heard the explosions and were moving along the lake's sandy shore at a faster pace when Blake reached out a hand and stopped Paul, nearly dragging him back off his feet. "What the hell?" Paul whispered loudly.
Blake simply pointed. "There's another trip wire."
He knelt down beside it. "This one leads to a fire canister of some sort."
Paul nodded, then proceeded to a point where he could see the cabin with his binoculars. He didn't like what he saw. Peter was down and Stamper was standing over him, ranting about something. Unfortunately, there was still no sign of Kelly or Skalany.
The dark night went white with lightning, nearly blinding Paul. Seconds later, the thunder came. It was so strong the ground shook. Paul frowned in silent dismay. They were battling so many obstacles, and now Mother Nature had decided to throw a few more in their direction.
"We're in position. What now, Captain?" Jody asked over the radio, her voice filled with worry.
"We proceed with the plan," Blaisdell said, depressing the button on his radio. "While Peter keeps Stamper busy, we look for our missing detectives. Kermit will take sniper point, hopefully to catch Stamper before he harms Peter."
"You mean harms him anymore, right?" Kermit asked with bitterness tight in his voice.
"That's enough, Kermit. Peter's doing exactly what he's supposed to be doing – distracting Stamper so that we can get in place, find our people, and then arrest that madman, so that he can never harm anyone ever again."
"Ah, damn it," Chin cursed.
"What is it?" Blaisdell asked, looking in the direction of the cabin.
"I just found McMasters's body."
They went silent for a moment. "Let that be a reminder to everyone to stay on their toes. Now, let's get to work. Spread out and watch yourself."
He signed off with the group, and then turned to Blake. "McMasters was a good man," Blake said softly.
Blaisdell nodded, but it was too late to deal with the dead. They had to find the living. He gestured with one hand. "Let's try the boat house first."
They headed off in that direction, ever watchful of any traps or wires positioned to kill them, maybe more so now that the death of McMasters was lingering in their minds.
"Paul, didn't you say you already took your boat out of the water for the winter?" Blake asked with obvious curiosity.
Paul turned to where Blake was looking and sure enough his boat was there in the water, cleaned up and ready to go. "People, be aware. Stamper has put my boat in the water, possibly as a means of escape. Keep your eyes open."
Paul sighed as he forced himself to move. Every part of him wanted to stay and watch over Peter, but they each had a job to do, so he left Peter, alone and unattended, to fulfill his own duties. Son or not, they had two women to rescue. He said a silent prayer of protection for Peter and then followed Blake toward the boat house.
oOoOoOoOo
