Chapter Six
Nick felt the bullet slam into his right shoulder as a scream pierced the night. He fell backwards and hit the ground with a thud. Instinctively, his left hand reached up to try to and stop the blood from flowing.
Richard moved quickly to Nick's side with Emily in tow, his arm wrapped securely around her throat. Silent tears were falling from her eyes as she tried to assess Nick's physical condition.
"Get up." he ordered, giving Nick's wounded shoulder a vicious kick.
Nick swallowed the cry of pain that had threatened to escape his lips. Carefully, he got to his feet while trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his shoulder. He forced himself to look straight into Richard's eyes without letting any sign of the pain he was feeling show on his face. This man fed off fear and Nick wasn't about to give into his. He refused to play the victim.
"Get in the car. You're gonna drive." Richard commanded without raising his voice. He didn't shout. There was no need. His intentions were quite clear.
At this, Emily spoke up in a frantic whisper. "No! Please don't make him come! He's not a part of this! I'll be good! I won't run away again! Please let him go, Daddy!"
Richard drew Emily up, bringing her close to his face. "I know you won't, Hannah, but I need him to drive so we can talk. I want to devote all of my attention to you."
His voice was sickly sweet but Emily cowered at his words as if he were shouting at her at the top of his lungs. She hung her head in silent acceptance and Richard switched his attention back to Nick. "Now get in the car."
Nick obeyed. Now was not the time for a drastic move.
Richard shoved Emily into the backseat before climbing in after her. He dug the barrel of Nick's gun in the back of the CSI's head and issued driving instructions to him.
Once Nick had started to drive, Richard stuck the gun into his waistband and returned his attention to his daughter. He moved closer to her and gently gripped the back of her neck. His cruel eyes studied Emily, who's posture screamed defeat. She was hunched over, staring wide-eyed at the floor.
Nick caught a glimpse of her in the rear view mirror and felt his heart sink. Emily Trent, the confident woman that Nick had come to know and respect was gone. In her place was the frightened, shattered soul that was Hannah Douglass, looking utterly lost and completely alone.
Richard began to whisper to her.
"I warned you, Hannah. I warned you what would happen if you left me." His voice was filled with a quiet rage. "You remember what I told you would happen if you left me?"
Emily mumbled something unintelligible.
"I can't hear you, Hannah. Speak up." he ordered.
"You said you'd find me and punish me and whoever helped me escape." Emily whispered, her voice shaky.
"And I kept my word, didn't I? You force my hand. I had to kill your brother. I had no choice. I wasn't about to let you make a liar out of me. Now look what you've done. You've let another man put himself in danger for you." Richard said, the fingers gripping her neck began to massage it gently.
He turned his head sharply to gave further driving instructions to Nick.
Swinging his head back to Emily, Richard took a few moments to stare at her. His gaze seemed to cause her physical pain as her body tried to collapse in on itself in order to hide from it.
"You were always testing me. You and that no good brother of yours. I built a home for the two of you and how do you repay me? By rejecting the names I gave you, pretending to be someone else! How do you think that makes me feel?" Richard's voice rose ever so slightly and he gripped harder at the back of Emily's neck.
"I'm sorry!" Emily whimpered, wincing at the pain his grip was inflicting on her.
"Not as sorry as you're gonna be." Richard breathed.
Perhaps the scariest thing about Richard Douglass was who cold and calculating he was. He knew exactly what to do and what to say in order to elicit the response he desired. He very rarely felt the need to raise his voice as his quiet tones were far more deadly. Very rarely did he resort to verbalized threats because his threats were implied in everything he did. The use of physical violence was not his primary source of amusement as he much preferred to break a person's spirit by inflicting psychological torment on them. He was reveling in doing just this to his daughter.
All this time, Richard had kept a firm grip on the large hunting knife in his hand. He contented himself with running the flat part of the blade back and forth across Emily's leg. She watched its progress with her eyes, her body trembling.
"You see this knife?" he asked her quietly. "I could see the fear in his eyes reflecting in the blade when I put it to Peter's throat. I pressed it hard against his throat for a long time. I wanted him to feel what it was like to stand on the edge of death, never knowing for sure when it would come but knowing that it eventually would. Inevitability mixed with uncertainty."
He paused and watched his hand run the knife back and forth across her leg. Then he gave a small smile and said, "I will say this for him. He died like a man - definant till the end. Of course, that was always his way. I would have expected nothing less from him."
He leaned closer until he was inches away from her ear and whispered, "You should have seen the blood flow out of him when I cut his throat. In the end, his own heart was his enemy as it pumped the blood right out of him, spraying everywhere like some sort of a fountain. It truly was a thing of beauty."
Emily's skin turned a chalky white and she looked like she was trying with some difficulty to keep from being sick. Her trembling increased as did the tears that streaked from her eyes.
This one-sided exchange between father and daughter made Nick's skin crawl. He could feel his insides churning at the image Richard's words had just created in his mind. He wanted desperately to block out the sound of Richard's voice, but he was drawn to it like people who come across a horrible accident can't help but stare at the carnage.
It seemed that Emily had inherited her ability to hold an audience captivated by the mere sound of her voice from her father. But while Emily's voice was pleasant to listen to and made you want to aspire to noble things, Richard's voice made you feel like you were in the presence of evil itself, making you want to surrender the will to live if only the sound of his voice stop. How Nick wished the voice would stop! It made it impossible for him to think about anything else.
Richard lifted the knife from her leg and suspended it in the air, admiring its deadliness.
"You want to touch it?" he asked with a smile. His voice dripped with a weird mixture of cruelness and casualness.
Emily shook her head violently. She did not want to touch the knife that had been used to end her brother's life. Just the thought of it made bile rise in her throat.
"I want you to touch it." he said, a trace of amusement now sounded in his voice.
"No. Please." she protested tearfully and tried to shrink away.
"Hold your hand up." he orderd in a commanding voice.
Not wanting to provoke him, Nick had remained silent up until this point. He was in no position to threaten the man, but he wasn't about to sit idly by and say nothing about this disgusting ordeal. He wanted to let Emily know that she wasn't alone.
"She doesn't want to! Leave her alone!" Nick tried to sound commanding all the while feeling incredibly foolish. However, his protest went unnoticed by both of them. They seemed to be lost in their own little world of terror.
Emily had still not raised her hand. She kept it balled in a fist in her lap. Richard put a hand underneath her chin and pulled her face towards him. "Look at me, Hannah."
She slowly looked up at him. Her sad, blue eyes stared into his pitiless ones. They conveyed to her the horror of her situation and told her that her impending death would be slow and it would be painful.
He spoke in a very slow, very deadly tone. "Now, hold your hand up."
Emily seemed to lose control over her own will. Uncurling her fist, she raised her hand. It shook unsteadily in the air, which only seemed to please Richard more. He placed his hand on top of hers and forced it to wrap around the blade of the knife. He squeezed her hand hard and Emily could feel the blade cut into her skin. She bit her lip in an effort to keep from crying out but a sob escaped her lips. Richard held her hand like this for a few minutes, watching the blood drip from her hand onto her jeans.
Finally, he released her hand and Emily drew it into her chest and cradled it there. She immediately dropped her gaze as Richard said, "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
In his office, Gil Grissom was taking a few minutes to collect himself. It had been a long shift already and it was only getting longer. Gil removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes.
So far, there had been no sightings of Richard Douglass. Deep down, Gil knew that he was going to be a hard man to find. Richard was dedicated to his task, careful and calculating. He wasn't about to make a careless mistake.
His moment of quiet contemplation was interrupted by Brass.
"We got a problem." the detective announced by way of greeting.
Grissom felt a tightness build in his chest. He did not like the look on Brass' face. "What happened?"
"We got a call. A shot was fired at Norm's Diner. The caller said he saw a man force a couple into a black SUV before it took off."
"Nick and Emily." Grissom through a clenched jaw.
The scientist slammed a fist down on his desk, angry at himself. He should have known that Richard was bold enough to make a move like this, but he had been temporarily blinded by his pity for Emily. He had willingly let Nick and Emily leave the lab and in doing so, expose themselves to danger.
"I already put an APB out on Nick's vehicle." Brass informed him.
"You said a shot were fired. Was anyone hurt?" Grissom asked, getting to his feet.
Brass shook his head. "The caller couldn't tell."
The CSI stopped at the door next to the detective. "We have to find them. Fast. That man won't hesitate to kill Nick once he's arrived at whatever destination he has in mind, and I don't even want to think about what he's planning on doing to Emily."
Grissom started to walk away but stopped short when he realized that Brass had not followed him. He turned to face the detective and gave him an inquisitive look.
"My gut tells me that there's going to be no standoff with a guy like Richard Douglass. He'll kill them without hesitation if he even suspects he's about to be cornered. Doesn't matter if he gets caught afterward. He'll spend his time in prison taking pleasure in the knowledge that he's accomplished what he set out to do." Brass stated grimly.
Grissom knew that the detective was right. He had said as much to Nick earlier that day. These were the worst suspects to deal with - the ones who didn't care at all what happened to them. They were twice as dangerous.
"We'll just have to find a way to gain the upper hand somehow," Grissom said. "Once we find them that is."
The scene that had just played out behind him brought reality crashing down on Nick and kicked his mind into high gear. He had been listening so intently to the conversation that he hadn't even been paying much attention to where they were going or the fact that they were on a road that was taking them away from the safety of the city lights. The number of trees dotting the road had begun to increase and the last thing that Nick needed to let happen was for Richard to get them somewhere secluded.
Nick knew his options were limited. Blood was seeping from his wound, staining the front of his shirt and running down his right arm. The pain in his shoulder was intense, but he wasn't about to let it stand in the way of his doing something.
An idea had occurred to him. It was risky to say the least, but it might give them a fighting chance, and he was determined to not give up without a fight. He felt that he owed it to Emily, who was clearly resigning herself to impending torture and death.
They were driving in a wooded area now with no cars visible ahead of them. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw that there were no cars behind them as well. It was now or never.
Without warning, Nick turned the steering wheel with a fierce jerk causing the car to spin off the road, heading in the opposite direction. He heard a shout behind him, and ignoring it, slammed down on the brakes while simultaneously turning the wheel, aiming for the object of his intent. The car skidded in the dirt until the driver's side of the vehicle smashed into the trees.