The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [133]
‘What’s your name?’ Hunter heard D-King ask.
‘Becky,’ she replied in-between sobs.
‘You’ll be OK, Becky. We’ll get you out of here,’ D-King said, trying to help her up, but her knees buckled under her. Quickly he grabbed hold of her waist before she collapsed back onto the chair.
‘Easy now . . . your legs are still weak. We gotta do this slowly.’ He turned his attention back to one of his men. ‘Find something to cover her up.’
The man’s eyes searched the room for a piece of cloth or something suitable but found nothing.
‘Here, take this.’ Hunter recognized Jerome from the nightclub. He took off his shirt and handed it to D-King. The massive shirt over the woman’s petite frame looked almost like a long dress.
‘You’ll be OK, Becky. It’s all over now.’
D-King’s voice took a different tone altogether. ‘Take her upstairs, put her in the car and don’t leave her side,’ D-King barked at someone.
Hunter quickly ducked behind some cement bags as best and as quietly as he could, the shadows helping to conceal him. Through an opening between the bags Hunter saw another huge man exiting the room. On his arms the petrified-looking Becky.
‘You’ll be safe with me, Becky,’ the man reassured her in a caring voice.
Hunter waited until they’d disappeared down the corridor and inched closer once again.
‘So you believe in Jesus, do you?’ D-King asked in an angry voice as he approached the naked tattooed man.
No reply.
Hunter saw D-King slam the wooden butt of his double-barreled shotgun into the man’s lower back, who collapsed to the ground. Instinctively, the shortest of the three captured men turned in a reaction, but before he was able to make a move Jerome struck him across the face with an Uzi sub-machinegun. Blood splattered against the wall. Two of his teeth bounced onto the floor.
‘Who the fuck told you to move?’ Jerome’s voice was an angry shout.
Damn, Steven wasn’t joking when he said they had a small arsenal in here, Hunter thought.
‘That girl was what, twenty-eight, twenty-nine?’ D-King hit the man on the floor once again, this time a hard kick to the stomach. ‘Get up and turn around, you sack o’ shit.’ D-King paced in front of the now scared men.
‘Do you know who I am?’ The question hung in the air before the shortest of the three nodded.
D-King looked on in amazement. With a calm voice he continued. ‘So you know who I am and still you took one of my girls from me, raped her, tortured her and killed her?’
No answer.
‘Boy, you’ve just taken the word stupid to new heights. You two . . . strip,’ he ordered, pointing at the two men who were dressed.
They looked back at him with a puzzled expression.
‘Are you fuckers deaf? He said strip,’ Jerome commanded, striking the one who was wearing glasses in the stomach.
‘Wow, she would’ve needed magnifying glasses, boys,’ D-King said, staring at their naked bodies. ‘No wonder you have problems getting women. Tie them to the chairs, just like they do to their victims.’
Click, Hunter heard the unmistakable sound of a semi-automatic pistol being cocked behind him. A split second later he felt its cold barrel being pressed against the back of his head.
‘Don’t even think about moving,’ the voice commanded.
Sixty-Three
The door opened and Hunter was pushed into the room, the gun still pressed hard against the back of his head.
‘I found this piece of shit sneaking around outside. He was packing this,’ the man said, throwing the gun he’d retrieved from Hunter onto the floor. D-King turned to face the new arrival.
‘Detective Hunter? This is a surprise.’
‘Detective?’ Warren, who had discovered and captured Hunter, said in astonishment.
‘What the hell happened to you?’ D-King asked, staring at Hunter’s bruised and cut face.
‘Don’t look at me, boss,’ Warren said, lifting his hands up. ‘He was already this ugly when I found him.’
Hunter’s eyes quickly scanned his