“Ashley?” Even speaking single words pained him, but he had to get over it. He was certain he had a concussion. And there was something wrong with his legs. Maybe they were bound as well, but he couldn’t feel anything below his waist. Nick’s entire body was cold and numb.
But he was alive. He planned on staying alive. And keeping Ashley van Auden alive, too. How he would do this was another story. He didn’t know where he was, what time it was, or how the hell to get out of here.
“Yes.” Her voice squeaked out, then ended in a sob. She was so close that if he wasn’t bound he could reach out and touch her. “He’s going to kill us. He’s going to kill us. It’s him. The Butcher. He’s going to kill us like all those others-”
“Shhh.”
Ashley repeated her mantra over and over, making Nick’s head throb. He tried to shush her, but couldn’t, so he tried to ignore her. That failed, too.
“Ashley. Ashley.” He repeated her name until she finally stopped sobbing.
She whimpered. “What?”
“We need to plan. Think.” Think? Hell, he could barely calculate two plus two.
“I don’t want to die,” she sobbed.
Neither did he. “At some point he’ll release you.”
“And then he’ll kill me! I know what he did to Rebecca Douglas. H-h-he slit her throat. He k-k-killed her!”
“Ashley. Stop.” Nausea rose in his throat and his mind swam, dizzy. He took in as big a breath as he could; eased it out. In. Out. He couldn’t lose consciousness again. It was too dangerous for both of them.
“Sheriff?”
From the concern in her whisper, he must have dozed off or passed out for a minute. “I’m here.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“Sorry.” He exhaled. “Do you know where you are?”
“No. I’m blindfolded. I can’t see anything.”
“Did you see anyone when you were kidnapped?”
“No,” she sobbed. “No one. Ohmygod, Jo! She’s not here, she hasn’t answered me. She’s dead, isn’t she? She’s dead.” Ashley started sobbing hysterically. It took Nick several minutes to calm her down. It wouldn’t do any good for Ashley to know her friend was in a coma, so he lied.
“JoBeth is going to be fine. She’s in the hospital, but she’s going to be fine.”
“Thank God, thank God.”
Did the Butcher think Nick knew his identity? He must have felt threatened somehow to have attacked him at the cabin.
If that was the case, there was no way the Butcher would give Nick a chance to escape. Unless he found a way out, he was as good as dead.
“No matter what, when you get out of here, run. Don’t do the expected. Try to cover your tracks. Avoid screaming or even breathing too loud. Stay in the trees. If it’s night and you can’t go on, bury yourself under leaves and hide. But as much as you can, run.” He pictured a map of the places the Butcher chased the women. Everything was south of the interstate, west of Gallatin Gateway. “Head northeast as much as possible. Eventually, in a day, maybe two or three, you’ll hit the main road.”
“How do you know?”
“I know his hunting ground.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll stay with you if I can.”
She didn’t say anything. Maybe she knew how injured he was. Or maybe she thought he wouldn’t be released.
Several moments passed, and Nick thought Ashley had gone to sleep. “He hurt me.”
Her voice was faint. Pleading. Almost childlike.
“I know, honey. I’m sorry.” He was so sorry. Her abduction was partly his failure. He hadn’t been able to protect the women in his town from the madman who stalked them.
That hurt as much as the pain in his head.
Lying here, on the cold, hard floor, Nick knew they were in a dire situation. The Butcher would be back before anyone could find them. No matter how many people were out searching, they’d never be able to cover enough ground.
He had to think, come up with a plan to save Ashley and himself.
But he feared it was already too late.
CHAPTER 24
Miranda knocked on the door of Professor Austin’s basement office in Traphagen Hall. It hadn’t changed in the fifteen years since she’d taken his class. Rocks were the prominent decorative item in the overstuffed office. Topographical maps of the western United States filled the walls along with faded charts of rock and soil comparisons. The entire room smelled like dirt and paper.
Professor Austin had already been old when Miranda was in his class; he hadn’t changed. His white hair stood straight up, and his beard needed a trim. But his emerald eyes sparkled with recognition when Miranda cleared her throat to catch his attention.
“If it isn’t Miranda Moore!” He stood, not noticing or caring when a stack of papers hit the floor, some sliding under his desk. No wonder he’d lost their midterm essays fifteen years ago.
“Hi, Professor,” she said as he gave her a hard slap on the back and a wide grin.
“It hasn’t been so long that you forgot to call me Glen?”
“Sorry.” On the first day of class, Professor Austin insisted everyone call him by his first name. The problem was, he
“What brings you here so early?”
“The Rebecca Douglas murder.”
The professor’s face clouded. “Poor girl.”
“The investigators found something unusual and I thought you might be able to help.”
“Me?” He sat on the corner of his desk and more papers toppled to the floor. He motioned for Miranda to sit in the single chair.
She removed a large box of books from the seat before sitting. “There’s an unusual soil sample that’s been sent to the FBI lab at Quantico for testing. It’s red. Like brick. The lab technician says it’s clay. I couldn’t think of any place around here that had red clay or soil. I thought maybe you would know of some place.”
“Hmmm.” He looked beyond Miranda, over her shoulder at the wall behind her, lost in thought. “There’s an area over by Three Forks along the Missouri, but I wouldn’t call it brick-colored. Red dirt. Hmmm.” He thought again, then jumped up suddenly, startling Miranda.
He crossed to the crammed bookshelf, pulled out a thick tome, and turned to the back. Nodding and muttering to himself, he flipped through the book and stopped. “Red soil, particularly clay, is an erosional product that is very common in the Middle Paleozoic sandstone formations.”
Miranda felt like she was in school again. “What are the Middle Paleozoic formations?”
He glanced at her and frowned. “You passed my class, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” But the information had promptly left her memory.
He shook his head and sighed. “The Paleozoic formations were created by shallow seas that covered much of the western U.S. from 500 to 250 million years ago, particularly the Four Corners states-Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico-as well as a large slice of Nevada.”
“But what about southwest Montana?”
“Well, like I said, there are fine clays and soils all along the Missouri River. They come in varying colors and textures, but nothing that I would call red. Still.” He frowned. “If I can see it, I might be able to tell you more.”
