Glock set his hand against the coffeemaker, found it cold. Papers and files and a laptop covered the kitchen table. He glanced down to see handwritten notes. The state police in Indiana. A former detective from Alaska. A newspaper story.
Quickly, he cleared the rest of the house, but Kate was not there. Back in the kitchen, he called Tomasetti. “She’s not home,” he said without preamble.
“I’m twenty minutes away,” Tomasetti said. “Meet me at the station.”
“What the hell’s going on? Where’s Kate?”
“I’ll explain when I get there. Do me a favor and see if you can get Detrick on the line. See where he’s at, what he’s doing. Don’t let on that you’re suspicious about anything.”
“What does Detrick have to do with this?”
“I think he might be . . . involved.”
“Involved in what?”
“The murders.”
“
“Look, I don’t know for sure. Just call him, okay?”
“What if he’s at the station?”
“If he is, that’ll be the best news I had all day. If he’s not, then I’m pretty sure Kate’s in trouble.”
Awareness returns slowly. The first thing I become aware of is the cry of the wind. I hear snow battering the windows. I lay on my side with my knees drawn up to my chest. My wrists are bound behind my back. The arm I’m lying on is numb. My ankles are still bound. I’m shivering with cold. The crotch of my jeans is wet, and I remember peeing when Detrick hit me with the stun gun.
I open my eyes. Yellow light from the heater dances on the ceiling. I feel cold air flowing over me, and I remember the window is broken. I look around. My heart jigs when I spot Detrick, standing in the doorway. At some point, he removed his coat. He wears a denim shirt over a turtleneck and a nicely cut pair of trousers.
“You broke my nose,” he says.
I notice the blood on the turtleneck. “How are going to explain that?”
“People fall when the sidewalks are icy.” His eyes run over me. His smile chills me. “You’re shivering. Cold?”
I say nothing.
“You shouldn’t have broken that window. Heater would have had it comfortable in here by now.”
The hopelessness of the situation is like a dark hole and I’m about to get sucked into it. This man is going to kill me. It’s just a matter of when. And how. Time is on my side, but I know it’s running out.
“You going to behave yourself if I cut the rope on your ankles?”
“Probably not.”
He laughs. “You try anything stupid, and I’ll hurt you bad this time, you understand?”
He looks at me the way a starving dog looks at a piece of meat before devouring it. He’s going to rape me. I see it in his eyes. The thought repels me, but I remind myself I’ve already survived it once. I can survive it again. I want to live. That interminable will pulses through me with every rapid-fire beat of my heart.
He starts toward me. I notice the stun gun in his hand. “Don’t use the gun,” I say.
“You going to cooperate?”
He kneels next to me. The knife glints like quicksilver in the light from the kerosene heater. The scrap of fabric binding my ankles falls away. I feel his eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. I know he’ll see my fear. I know he feeds on that.
My heart cartwheels in my chest when he begins unlacing my left boot. I stare at his fingers. The manicured nails. The rock-steady hands. He’s so utterly normal-looking I can almost convince myself this isn’t happening.
But the man unlacing my boot is incapable of feeling any emotion other than the gnawing compulsion of his dark hunger. Tonight, that hunger is focused on me—and minutes away from spiraling out of control.
The clock on the dash reads three-thirty A.M. when John parked the Tahoe outside the Painters Mill police department. Snow swirled in when he pushed open the front door. Mona sat at the dispatch station, a lollipop in her mouth, both feet propped next to her monitor. A lilting Red Hot Chili Peppers tune floated from a radio on the credenza. She looked up from her book when John entered. Her feet hit the floor and she stood.
“I thought you left.”
“I’m back.” He headed toward Kate’s office. “You seen the chief?”
“Not since Detrick just about arrested her.”
“Any idea where she is?”
“I figured she went home.”
“How long ago did she leave?”
“A couple of hours, I think.”
“Where’s Detrick?”
“I assumed he went home, too.” He brows snapped together. “Is there something going on?”
The bell on the front door jingled. Glock blew in looking as grim as John had ever seen him. Mona yanked the sucker out of her mouth. “What’s going on, you guys?”
Ignoring her, John turned to Glock. “Were you able to get Detrick?”
“I tried his cell, but he didn’t pick up.”
“Try him at home.”
He expected the former Marine to question the wisdom of calling the sheriff at three-thirty in the morning. Instead he slid his cell from its nest and hit two buttons. “Lora? Hey, it’s Rupert Maddox.” He looked at John as he spoke. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just wondering if you could put Nathan on the line for a sec.” Glock’s brows go up. “He’s not there? Really? Do you know where he is?” He nods. “Well, that’s dedication for you. I’ll get him on the radio. Sorry to have bothered you.”
His grim expression fell on John with the same levity of the words that followed. “Housekeeper says he’s on patrol.”
“Try him at the sheriff’s office.” John turned his attention to Mona. “See if you can get him on the radio.”
Sliding the headset over her ears, she hit a couple of buttons and spoke into the mouthpiece. “This is dispatch hailing 247. Sheriff Detrick, do you read?”
“Try his cell phone again,” John said to Glock.
The former Marine lowered his cell. “Voice mail.”
“Shit.” John’s mind skittered through his options. “Detrick own any property around here?”
Glock shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What about abandoned farms or—”
“I have a list!”
Both men looked at Mona. She looked excited by the prospect of helping. “I have a copy of the one I gave Detrick.” Grabbing the mouse next to her computer, she clicked and the printer spit out two pages. Mona handed them to John. “I broke it down by homes, farms, and businesses within a fifty mile radius.”
“We need manpower,” John said.
“What about Pickles?” asked Glock.
“He’s on tonight,” Mona put in. “Took a call about fifteen minutes ago. Guy skidded off the road down by Clark. He’s trying to get a wrecker out there.”
John looked at the list. “Call Pickles. Tell him it’s urgent. Tell him to start checking these locations.”
“What’s he looking for?” she asked.
John struggled with how much information to reveal. “We’re looking for Kate. Her vehicle. We think she might be in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” She looked from man to man.
John lowered his voice. “We just want to find her.”
“Tell Pickles to stay off the radio,” Glock added. “Cell phone only.”
“I got it.”
