Find Me (33 page)

Polly raised her head.

The brush of something soft against the rock whispered in the air. A shoe? Or boot? Her body froze. Someone was coming. Oh, God!

Her mind told her to scream, but her throat wouldn't cooperate.

She was so cold.

Numb.

And alone.

Kale hadn't found her.

The police…

She was going to die.

Her head lolled to one side.

Why her?

She wasn't pretty or smart.

She was nobody.

Was it because she talked about the other girls?

A sob choked her.

She whimpered.

The rasp of soles was louder now.

Someone was here.

She lifted her face. Wished she could see.

Maybe she didn't want to see.

Please, please, God, help me. Let someone find me!

The rustle of fabric warned her that whoever was here had crouched next to her.

Fingers twisted in her hair.

She tried to scream. Couldn't.

"The gossip girl."

She shuddered at the cruel voice.

Had to be the devil… Matilda had warned her. She'd probably taken off last night to hide like she said she might. That had to be why she hadn't shown up to meet Polly.

A sob tore at her chest. She was going to die.

He put his face close to hers. She tried to draw away. Savage fingers stopped her with a harsh twist.

"You should think before you speak," he whispered close to her ear, the voice barely audible.

The sobs wouldn't stop. She choked and gagged but they just kept coming.

"But," the devil said, "I've decided to give you a second chance."

Quiet! Listen. What was it saying?

"I've decided to trade a gossip for a fraud."

The voice… it was… male, she was sure of it. A man?

No. She trembled It was the devil.

Oh, God.

"Don't you want that?"

What did he mean? Her body quaked and shuddered. She wanted to run away. To wake up and find out this was just a bad dream.

"You're a very lucky girl, Polly Gossip. A fraud is going to take your place."

He reached between her legs.

She tried to jerk away, tried to scream.

Something ripped.

Her hands were suddenly free from her feet. She tried to work them loose from each other. Couldn't.

"Be a good girl now," he warned.

She stilled. He hauled her to her feet. She stumbled.

Then he was pulling her, one arm wrapped around her neck. Her feet struggled to keep up but she kept falling against him.

Nausea roiled in her stomach.

Where was he taking her?

What did he mean?

Was he going to kill her now?

She could hear the water.

The waves crashed against the rock.

Air rushed all around her. The gentle spray of something wet hit her face.

She was outside.

Oh, God, she was outside!

Her heart fluttered. She wanted to cry out. She sucked in as much air as she could through her nose. Cold, salty.

Wait.

She inventoried her senses.

Where was he?

The arm was no longer locked around her neck.

She stumbled around, her legs like dead tree trunks.

Her hands shaking, she reached up to her face. Tape across her mouth. Something… cloth… over her eyes.

She whimpered… was afraid any second he would grab her again and tell her that he'd only been joking.

She took hold of the cloth over her eyes with the tips of her fingers and tugged at it. It moved. She pulled it free.

She blinked. Looked around.

The moon peeked from the clouds. The water rushed over the rocks.

Where was he?

She turned all the way around. Didn't see him.

Tears slid down her cheeks. She ripped the tape from her mouth. Cried out at the burn. The sound echoed, reminding her that she was alive.

She stared at her hands. They were taped together with silver tape.

She tried to pull them apart.

The caw of a crow pulled her gaze skyward.

What if he was coming back?

No!

She had to run.

Had to find help.

Her face crumpled with more tears as she stumbled forward.

She had to get home.

Her mom would be worried.

She swiped at her eyes and scrambled up the cliffs.

Don't think. Just run.

Run for your life!

Beauchamp Road, midnight

Sarah's cell phone had vibrated at least ten times in the last two hours. She ignored it.

"No one will find the Jeep here."

Kale had taken Sarah to his place where they'd prepared for their own search. Then he'd stopped by his parents' house and gotten a pair of his sister's boots for Sarah to wear. They were a size too large, but they worked.

"You ready?" he asked.

Sarah nodded. "Let's do it."

She and the Popes had searched the shoreline on either side of their house. That left their house, the extensive, rocky shore that separated it from the ocean, and the boathouse.

Getting into the house without getting caught would likely be impossible, but they were prepared for that as well. Sarah would distract the Popes while Kale searched.

Not a perfect plan but not one without some possibility of success.

"Shit." Kale reached into his coat pocket and checked his cell.

Like hers, his had buzzed a number of times. He'd stopped answering the last time the chief called to check on him.

"It's the chief again."

"You know what he wants." He wanted to ensure that Kale wasn't trying anything stupid.

Like this.

Kale stared at the screen of his phone. "He left a voice mail this time."

"Play it." If there was something new they needed to know about, they should be aware before taking this no-turning-back step.

Kale pushed the necessary buttons and set it on speaker.

"Kale, I don't know where you're at—I sent a deputy to your house."

"Great," he muttered.

"You need to come to Bay View Medical Center."

His gaze collided with Sarah's and even in the near darkness she saw the renewed terror.

"Your folks are there with your sister. She's okay, Kale. A little bruised up, but okay."

The words echoed inside the Jeep. Kale didn't move, just stared at her.

"She's okay. Kale," the chief's voice repeated. "He let her go."

Those last four words rang in Sarah's ears.

He let her go.

Public Safety Office, Thursday, March
5, 9:00 A.M.

"Settle down," the chief said. "We've got a lot to cover."

Sarah couldn't sit. She stood by Kale at the door. He, evidently, couldn't sit, either.

Polly was basically unharmed. She had a few scratches and bruises, emotionally she was a mess, but she was alive with no serious physical injuries and that was what mattered. Sarah had spent the last several hours at the hospital with her, Kale, and his family. Sarah had to admit that the community support had been something to see.

The Conner family treated her as if she was one of them.

That had felt surreal, still did.

She should be gone by now. But some part of her needed to see how this played out. For Matilda… for all involved.

Would anyone in this room pay attention to what Sarah had told them despite the revelations in Polly's statement? Time to find out.

"As you all know," the chief began, "Polly Conner is, thankfully, safe with her family." A round of applause and cheers broke out across the room. Those closest to Kale gave him a pat on the back or a hug. The chief held up his hands to quiet the ruckus. "We're all happier about that than any words can say."

Sarah was immensely happy, too, but there was a killer still out there.
Get on with it, Chief
.

"Our job now," he finally continued, "is to find this devil before he can grab another of our children."

Devil
. The word reverberated through Sarah. Matilda had called the person responsible for the murders the devil. So had Polly, but she'd likely picked that up from Matilda. According to Polly, Matilda was supposed to have met her at the gym last night.

Exactly why they had to get on with this. Another of their children could be missing already. Matilda Calder. Or did no one here consider her one of their own?

"We've learned from Polly that the unknown subject, as Agent August here would call him"—the chief sent a nod of acknowledgment toward the fed—"is definitely male. The unknown subject indicated that he was releasing Polly because he was replacing her with
a fraud
. That means he still has names on his list."

Sarah resisted the impulse to shake her head. The unsub's decision to release Polly wasn't so cut-and-dried. The roses had been delivered. She was supposed to be dead.

Something had changed in the strategy. Did no one see that? Sarah knew killers as well as anyone in this room, better than most. Repeat killers didn't just change their minds and let victims go free. Polly's release was part of the strategy. They just didn't know what part yet.

August stepped forward. Sarah suppressed another urge, this one to roll her eyes. It would be thoroughly uninteresting to hear what he had to say.

"Our unsub is male, as we've confirmed; he's left basically no evidence."

Sarah's mouth gaped. What the hell? What about the boot print or the bleach, not to mention the fucking drugs? She shifted, unable to curb the need.

Kale glanced at her; she kept her attention focused straight ahead. She didn't want to miss a word of what this idiot had to say.

"I believe the minor trace evidence we'd found so far is nothing more than a ruse to keep us guessing."

This was outrageous. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoped like hell August noticed the disbelief written all over her face.

He called off a list of names of those who would begin a second sweep, now that it was daylight, of the area where Polly was found. A villager on his way home from a second-shift job had picked her up on the side of the road. August and the chief were going to reinterview certain persons of interest. Half a dozen other deputies were assigned the task of continuing to screen calls. Hundreds of tips had come in the past couple of days. Devil sightings. Those who'd seen the two dead girls roaming the cliffs. And plenty of others who just wanted to turn in the name of someone they were currently pissed at. The usual. But there was always the chance that something real would come in.

When the chief dismissed the group, Sarah made her way against the tide of those exiting to get to August.

She breached his personal space and demanded, "Are you serious? You're disregarding the evidence and going with this theory?"

He shouldered into his fancy trench coat. "Sarah, the girl said a man abducted her. We don't need to waste time looking for a woman when the evidence to suggest a woman was involved is circumstantial to say the least. And, most likely, is, as I said, a ruse to throw us off his scent."

"Circumstantial?" What the hell? "I gave you the boot. You have the impression of the print found. Are you saying they didn't match? This is no ruse, Lex."

"That imprint was found in a public place. The comparison between the boot you brought in and the imprint taken at the scene is inconclusive. Besides, there's no proof it was made by the unsub. The boots"—he tugged on his gloves— "are a common brand in this area. How many women do you suppose have those boots lying in their mudrooms?"

She wanted to punch the hell out of him. "What about the propranolol?"' There were only three women in the immediate area prescribed that drug; one of those just happened to own the boots Sarah had left with August.

"Drugs like that can be ordered on the Internet." August tugged a woolly cap in place. "You know that as well as I do. We're attempting to trace down shipments to this area. Anyone could have ordered it from Mexico or Canada. Again, that may be part of the game. Our unsub may want suspicion cast on someone in particular. Like Lynda Pope. Maybe someone is jealous of her. Have you considered that theory or are you simply going with your gut the way you always do?"

"Damn straight I'm going with my gut." That was the one thing she'd always been able to trust. Sarah understood the number of potential theories here. Absolutely. She also understood perfectly that, just like before, Lex had made his decision and he wasn't changing it.

Unless he was wrong.

Then he'd snag someone else's theory and pretend that was the one he'd really been following all along.

He shook his head but before he could walk away, which was another of his trademark maneuvers, she issued a warning. "Play it your way, Lex. And I'll play it mine."

She didn't give him time to caution her or to threaten to ban her from the investigation. She gave him her back and hit the door.

Sarah had almost made it to the front exit when Kale caught up with her. "What was that about?"

She didn't look at him. "The truth."

With Kale calling her name, she pushed her way out the exit and smack into the middle of the media frenzy outside.

Reporters rushed forward, as far as the barricade the chief had ordered erected would allow. Several shouted her name.

"What have the police learned from Polly Conner?" Sarah ignored the guy shouting the question and scanned the group for the lady who'd gotten in her face the other night. Blond Barbie. She pointed to her. "You!" Then she crooked her finger.

Blond Barbie plowed her way through the throng. Silence blanketed the assembly, microphones extended, cameras rolled.

"Whatever you hear from the others today, mark my word," Sarah said in a loud, clear voice, "the person responsible for these two tragic murders is female. She's out there and she's not finished yet. So keep your daughters at home. Don't let them out of your sight."

She elbowed her way through the reporters, ignoring the other questions shouted at her. She'd made it across the street to her car when a vehicle skidded to a stop not two feet away. "Get in."

She swung around, glared at Kale. "I'm happy as hell your sister is safe," Sarah said, not about to take any crap from him, either, "but they're wrong. Polly's alive because someone wants us to look in a certain direction. And the hell of it is, it's working." Her revelation to the reporters would let
him
know that it wasn't working, at least as far as Sarah was concerned.

Then Kale Conner did the last thing she would have expected. He climbed out of his car, grabbed her around the waist, and basically tossed her into his Jeep. He thrust his torso through the open door, blocking her escape. "Scoot over."

Briefly she considered ramming the vehicle into drive and leaving him standing there. But she hated to leave him in the path of all those reporters headed their way. "Now," he growled.

And he wasn't the enemy. So she climbed over the console, ensuring her butt missed the gearshift.

He slid behind the wheel and barreled away before the crowd of reporters could completely surround his vehicle.

"Are you out of your mind?" he demanded.

"Maybe."

She snapped her seat belt into place and was more than a little thankful that the streets in the area were kept plowed and sanded regularly. With the way he was driving, he would be a danger to anyone in his path otherwise.

"You can't be certain it's a woman."

"They can't be certain it's a man."

"Polly said—"

"Give it a rest, Conner. I know what she said."

"August is right about the boot print, it could have belonged to anyone. The comparison was inconclusive."