“And we told you that we didn’t have anything to offer,” Christopher replied. “But you still seem to have promised Paige that you would give her information if she showed up here.”
“Maybe I changed my mind,” Ingram said. “I’ll tell you what, get me a last-minute reprieve, and then I’ll tell you something.”
That was the biggest problem Paige and Christopher had: they didn’t have anything that they could offer the serial killer. The one thing he wanted was something that wasn’t in their power to grant. There was nothing they could give him now that could make his life easier, because that life was only going to last a few more minutes. There was no reprieve on the table, no chance of trading for information.
Paige tried to think of something else. They couldn’t give Ingram anything, but maybe they could take something away. He wanted her here as a witness? Well, he was going to have to earn that.
“You went to a lot of trouble to get me here,” she said. “But I came to get information. If you don’t give me that information, I’ll leave. You won’t have the witness you want for your death.”
“If you’re going to make threats, you need to learn to do it better,” Ingram said, apparently unperturbed.
“You think I won’t walk away?” Paige asked. “You went to so much trouble to get me here, I don’t think you’ll let me do that.”
Ingram shrugged, though. Apparently, he’d gotten all that he wanted just by getting her to come in the first place. “You’ll stay. You won’t be able to look away, once it starts. People are fascinated by death. They just don’t have the guts to take the next step and actually kill someone.” He turned to his guards. “We’re done here.”
They moved to march him to the gurney, and Paige knew that she was out of time. In just a few moments, Ingram’s execution would begin, and there would be no further chance of getting anything out of him.
“Nikki Ashenko!” she called out in desperation.
She saw Ingram’s head snap around at that. “What did you say?”
For the first time since she’d met him, Paige saw genuine shock on his features. He obviously hadn’t ever imagined that she would find out about the young babysitter they’d found dead in the stream. She’d caught him off guard, and this was obviously the moment to try to push for more.
“Nikki Ashenko,” Paige repeated. “We found her body earlier today. Forensic teams are there as we speak, and we know she couldn’t have been killed by you. Your copycat has been operating almost from the start, hasn’t he?”
Ingram didn’t say anything yet, but Paige could see the troubled look on his face. She’d hit a nerve.
“Except that he’s not just a copycat, is he?” Paige said. “He’s more like a partner. Or maybe a competitor. My guess is that he’s killed as many people as you.”
The guards had paused again to let them keep talking, but Paige knew that she wouldn’t have long. If this didn’t work, then nothing would.
“You told me that we didn’t know half of what you’d done. I bet there are more murders out there that are yours, but these ones? How many are his? How many of his kills are you dying for?”
She saw Ingram pause, obviously considering it, and he was silent for so long that the guards clearly assumed that he wasn’t going to say anything. They took him to the gurney, strapping him down firmly and professionally.
“Braeburn!” Ingram shouted out suddenly, staring at Paige. It was just one word, and she had no idea how it related to anything else, but just the fact that Ingram had said it to her here and now told her that it was important.
“What? What does that mean?” Paige demanded, but Ingram was silent, making it clear that a single word was all they were going to get from him.
Christopher moved to Paige’s side then. “He’s told us everything he’s going to. Frankly, I’m amazed you even got that out of him. We should go.”
Paige shook her head, though. The deal she’d made with Ingram was that she would come to his execution, and he would give her information. Now that he’d given her something, she felt as if she couldn’t just walk away. She couldn’t renege on the deal, because that was the kind of thing that he might have done. More than that, it felt wrong not to stay, not to witness these last moments of a life, even one as wholly given over to evil acts as Ingram’s was.
So, Paige sat there, staring through the glass screen as the guards finished strapping Ingram into place. She sat there as the priest stood up, reading Ingram the last rites via the intercom. It shouldn’t have surprised Paige that a serial killer might be just as religious as anybody else, but somehow, it did.
The priest moved away then, and the doctor moved to insert a canula into Ingram’s arm. He hooked it up to the machine that would deliver the lethal cocktail of drugs designed to kill him; Paige knew enough from her research to know that it would probably be pentobarbital first to sedate him, then pancuronium bromide to paralyze the respiratory system to prevent convulsions and also stop his breathing, and finally potassium chloride to stop the heart.
She watched while he was hooked up, and then the doctor moved to the side, waiting as if for the possibility of some last-minute reprieve. A clock in the corner clicked over onto the hour, and the doctor pushed a button to start the machine.
The stillness of it all was the strangest part. Paige saw Ingram tense against the straps that held him as the first of the drugs went into his system, but after that, he was still. His eyes slid shut and didn’t open again. After a few minutes, the doctor moved forward to check him, and presumably pronounce him dead.
Just like that, a serial killer was gone. It was a much more peaceful end than any he’d given his victims. It seemed like too much and not enough, all at once, a deep well of emotions flowing up through Paige at the sight of him dead there. She didn’t feel any grief for him in that moment, but she did feel it for his victims, and for all those his copycat had killed.
At least now, though, they had another clue that might help them catch that copycat before he struck again: Braeburn.
They just had to find out what it meant.