Riley remembered the roundness of the murder victim’s chestwound. Might it have been made by the shaft of an arrow?
She thought the wound was too large to have been made by thearrows she saw here.
Unless the arrow was specially designed, she considered.
Then her flashlight fell on something that made her gasp.
It was a wooden table was covered with blood. Some of the bloodwas dried and black, but some of it looked fresh, sticky, and red. Riley nolonger had any doubt that this had been the scene of some violent act.
Beyond the table against the far wall, Riley saw what she’d comehere looking for and now that she paused to listen, she could hear it faintlyhumming. It was a large white chest-type freezer, more than big enough to holda human body.
She hurried over to it.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the latch and lifted thelid.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ann Marie was positively shivering. Ever since Agent Paige haddisappeared down into the basement, she had felt her own fear of the darkrising. She knew it was irrational, and she had no idea where it came from.
She wasn’t scared of most other things that frightened otherpeople. Nothing about Dad’s mortuary ever upset her. But when she was littleshe’d been terrified of her own dark closet and imaginary things under her bed.Now, standing here alone in this strange dark cabin, she felt a powerful impulseto turn on the lights.
Nevertheless, she resisted the urge and made her way back intothe living room with her flashlight shining in front of her. She held the lighttilted low to keep its beam from spilling too much.
Some fearless BAU agent I am, she thought.
And of course, Agent Paige had noticed.
“You sound kind of scared for a kid who grew up around deadpeople,” Agent Paige had said.
She knew that this would be just one more thing for Agent Paigeto find fault with. So far, Ann Marie’s senior partner hadn’t said a singleencouraging word to her—not even about how she’d coaxed Lauren Hillis intoanswering Riley’s questions. Ann Marie thought she’d handled the grievingmother pretty well. If Agent Paige didn’t think so too, why didn’t she just sayso?
She just doesn’t like me, I guess.
Ann Marie wasn’t used to people not liking her. It was a strangeand uncomfortable feeling.
As Ann Marie made her way back into the living room, her flashlightfell again on the sheets covering most of the furniture, making them lookghostly and even vaguely threatening. And of course there was still that awfulsmell. It reminded her of one time when an unusually putrid corpse had beenbrought to the mortuary. An elderly woman had been found in her house after she’dbeen dead for a month.
Nope, there’s no mistaking that smell.
Ann Marie had no doubt that Agent Paige was going to find a deadbody down in that basement. That was no big deal as far as Ann Marie wasconcerned. She only wished her partner would find the damned corpse and comeback upstairs so she wouldn’t be alone in this darkness.
Meanwhile, she remembered what she was supposed to do.
“Go back to the living room and keep watch out front,”Agent Paige had said.
Ann Marie went to the front door and pulled it open. Then sherealized that anyone outside might see the glow of her flashlight, and snappedit off. She thought she could see the road reasonably well by moonlight.
Nothing seemed to be stirring out there except a rising wind.
Then a weird whistling sound came from somewhere behind her …somewhere inside the house.
Ann Marie gasped. She whirled around and snapped her flashlightback on.
On the other side of the living room, a curtain was movingslightly over one of the windows.
Was somebody trying to get in there?
Gathering her courage, she hurried across the room. Reaching outa shaking hand, she pulled the curtain aside. Then she let out a nervousgiggle.
A pane of glass had been broken in one corner. The wind wasmoving the curtain and making that whistling sound.
She felt foolish for reacting so sharply.
Calm down, she told herself.
Then she heard yet another sound—or was it her own heartpounding?
She listened and heard it again. It was coming from the frontporch.
It was a squeaking sound, like someone taking a step on ricketyfloorboards.
And she hadn’t closed the front door. It was still standing open.
She rushed back to the door and shined her flashlight through theopening, but all she could see were the rickety porch floorboards.
Then she heard the sound again.
And again.
Her heart was pounding now, and her breath was coming in gasps.
Someone must be on that porch. Someone or something.
She wanted to call out and demand to know, “Who’s there?”
But when she opened her mouth, no words came out.
Suddenly, being scared out of her wits didn’t seem so irrationalanymore.
In fact, it made pretty good sense.
After all, if there was a dead body in the basement, then surelywhoever was walking on the front porch must be …
A murderer.
As she stepped toward the doorway, it felt like she sometimes didin a dream when she tried to run but could barely move.
What was she supposed to do in a situation like this?
It vaguely came back to her …
Identify myself as an FBI agent.
Draw my weapon.
But before she could do either of those things, a large man leaptinto the doorway in front of her flashlight beam. He lunged toward her.
Ann Marie’s flashlight fell from her hand and rattled across theliving room floor. The next thing she knew, somebody was holding onto her witha vise-like grip.
“Just who the hell are you?” her attacker snarled.
*
At the sound of a scream upstairs, Riley slammed the freezer doorshut. With her gun in one hand and her flashlight in the other, she boundedback up the basement stairs. When she got to the living room, she saw that AnnMarie’s flashlight was lying on the floor, still spinning around from havingbeen suddenly dropped.
Riley’s own flashlight beam fell upon a big man wearing a huntingoutfit. He was holding Ann Marie tightly against him with one arm. With theother he was holding a large knife to her throat.
Riley’s
