“You’re the one who took Ashley?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“You know I am.”
“Is she alive?” asked Elise. Her voice was breathless with fear.
“Yes. I’ve taken good care of her.”
Not good. The confidence this guy oozed was not a good sign.
“How long have you been doing this?” asked Trent.
“Doing what?”
“Abducting women. Killing them.”
“Not nearly long enough.”
Trent glanced in the rearview mirror. “How many?”
A slow, creepy smile slid along the man’s mouth. “That would be telling.”
Traffic was light. Trent was speeding as fast as he dared while splitting his attention between the road and the killer. With any luck, they’d get pulled over, or the sirens might distract the man with the gun long enough that Trent could grab it and get it off Elise.
The fact that the muzzle of that weapon was only inches from her spine made every hair on Trent’s body stand on end.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter and moved around a slow van. “How far are we going?”
“You’ll know when we get there.”
“We need to stop for gas.”
The man laughed. “Nice try, but no.”
Elise twisted her hands in her lap. They were shaking so hard Trent had no trouble seeing it from the corner of his eye.
“Is Ashley… okay?” she asked.
“She’s still in one piece. For now.” The killer’s satisfied smile filled the rearview mirror. “Has anyone told you what lovely hands you have?”
Elise made a sound like she was going to be sick.
“Leave her alone,” growled Trent.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll plow this car into the median.”
“The gun would go off and your pretty friend would end up like your former partner.”
He’d considered that, which was why he hadn’t done that very thing already. There was still a chance he’d find another way out of this mess. He wasn’t sure what that was yet, but his eyes were wide open, looking for anything that might present itself.
“Slow down,” said the killer. “We wouldn’t want anyone pulling you over for speeding, would we?”
“No one is out at this time of night.”
The man moved the gun up to the back of Elise’s head. “Slow. Down.”
Trent eased off the accelerator.
City turned to suburbs, and suburbs turned to rural countryside as they moved out of Chicago. He weaved over the road, praying someone would report him for drunk driving, but all he got for his trouble was a horn blast that made Elise jump in her seat.
Trent had lost track of how far they’d gone when the man said, “Exit here.”
This didn’t look good. The area was remote. Isolated. Perfect for doing whatever one wanted without any witnesses.
The only good news was that they must be getting close to wherever it was they were going. Maybe close to Ashley. Once they stopped, Trent would have the opportunity to take the man out.
He hoped.
“Go left at the end of that fence.”
“Where are we going?” asked Elise.
“Home.”
“Is Ashley there?”
“Yes. She’s going to be so happy to see you.”
Trent turned where the man indicated. The road was a single-lane gravel path that led into blackness. There were no streetlights out here, only one distant yellow glow that indicated someone lived nearby.
The car slewed around on the loose gravel, so Trent slowed down. He flipped on his brights to get the lay of the land, but all he saw was rolling farmland, broken here and there by fences, trees, and rocks. Off to the right, his headlight gleamed off a small private lake surrounded by trees.
Small, but large enough to hide all sorts of crimes. And bodies.
“Pull over here,” said the man. “Next to the water.”
Warning bells gonged around inside Trent’s head. If he didn’t do something soon, neither one of them were going to make it out of this alive. This man was no amateur. He was armed, and he knew his way around out here. Trent didn’t.
“Get out. Both of you.”
Elise opened her door and got out. Immediately, the killer grabbed her and shoved the gun against her back hard enough to make her wince.
Trent got out but left the car running, the lights on and the door open in case they needed to get away fast.
The killer jerked Elise’s hair hard enough to make her gasp in pain, and gave Trent a knowing smile. “Move away from the car.”
Trent moved.
“Come around to the front where I can see you better.”
Trent went and stood in the beams of the headlights. He kept his body loose, his eyes on the killer. In the light, he could now see that the uniform the man wore wasn’t an official one. It carried the wrong emblem, but it was probably close enough to fool most people. The hat was the real thing, though. So was the gun.
Anger burned hot and acidic in Trent’s throat. If he ever managed to get his hands on that asshole, he was going to see to it that he suffered before he died for hurting Elise.
The killer pulled something off his belt and handed it to Elise. “Tie him up nice and tight.”
He pushed her forward, making her stumble. She caught her balance and hurried to Trent’s side. Fear made her face pale, but she was holding it together. Her whole body shook, but she hadn’t shed a single tear or broken down the way most people would have.
It only made him love her more.
“Hold your hands out for her,” said the killer.
Trent saw what she carried. It was plastic zip-tie handcuffs.
Once those went on, he was going to have a hell of a time stopping the man from doing whatever it was he had planned.
“Nice and tight. No wiggle room.”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Elise.
Trent kept his voice low, barely a whisper. “It’s okay. Just do what he says so you don’t get hurt.”
“Hold your hands up and let me see,” ordered the killer.
Trent held them up in the headlights’ glare, showing the killer she’d done as he’d asked.
“Elise, open the trunk. You, walk over here.”
The man waited for him at the back of the car. The trunk popped open.
The killer was going to stuff him in the trunk and send the car into that lake. Trent was sure of it. Why else would he have stopped here next to the water? Why else was a dock on a lake so small, wide and sturdy enough to support a car’s weight?
If Trent was going to do something, now was his last chance.
Trent moved like he was going to comply like a good little docile prisoner. He shuffled his feet over the dirt and kept his eyes down.
“Get in.”
“No!” shouted Elise.
The killer grabbed her arm hard enough to make her squeak in pain. The barrel of the gun went to her head. “Get in the trunk.”
Trent lifted his head and looked into Elise’s eyes. “I love you,” he told her. He might never again get the chance, and he didn’t want to let the opportunity go by.
Her eyes widened with shock, and something gloriously beautiful took hold of her features. The fear was wiped away, and what was left in its place was the fierce determination of a woman who was going to get what she wanted.
She lifted her foot and pulled her elbow forward at the same time. Trent had been in enough fights with his brother to know what she planned even before she finished moving.
He charged just as her foot slammed down on the killer’s, and her elbow flew into his gut.
The gun slipped away from her head, and that was all the opening Trent needed.
He barreled into the killer, giving him the full brunt of his momentum. His hands were still confined, and as they fell, he lost his balance.
Elise yelped and backed away.
Trent couldn’t free his hands, so he slammed both of them into the killer’s face. Blood spewed out from his nose, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He let out a roar of fury and punched Trent in the neck.
With his hands bound, Trent was off-balance. He couldn’t seem to steady himself.
The killer lifted the gun.
Trent realized too late that he hadn’t unarmed the man.
He rolled away, trying to make himself a moving target.
He heard the boom as his body jerked from the blow. A searing pain swept out from his side, consuming him.
Elise screamed.
The gun went off again, only this time, Trent felt nothing.
E
d Woodward hung up the phone and stuck his head into the room where Agent Laurens was going over all the crime scene photos. “Hey, Robin, Ms. McBride never showed up to her meeting with Special Agent Sinclair. I can’t get her or Trent on their cell phones.”
Robin glanced at her stylish watch and frowned. “They’ve been gone almost two hours.”
“Either Trent convinced her not to cooperate, or something happened. Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Robin stood and followed him out the door.
“To check security footage of the parking lot and see who was driving. I wouldn’t put it past Trent to simply take off with Elise to keep her out of this.”
They turned the corner and walked past the back entrance of the station. Robin came to an abrupt stop.
Ed turned to see what she was looking at. “What?”
“Do your officers usually carry purses?”
Ed looked to where she pointed. Dave Fowls had just come in from the parking lot. He clutched a brown purse in his hands.
“No.”
“It’s Elise’s,” said Robin as she headed for the man, her stride long and confident.
Ed hurried after her. “How do you know?”
“I was trying to avoid looking at the cheap, mud-brown thing all day. Believe me. It’s hers.”
Ed wouldn’t have known a cheap purse from an expensive one if his life depended on it, but Robin was always impeccably dressed. He trusted that she knew her way around a handbag.
He lifted his voice so Dave could hear him over the station’s noise. “Hey, Dave. Is there ID in that purse?”
Dave reached inside and pulled out a passport as Robin and Ed reached his side. “Elise R. McBride. Isn’t that the lady whose sister is missing?”
“Yes,” said Ed, “and now she is, too.”
Elise watched in horror as the killer shot Trent again.
Blood bloomed out over his shirt and darkened one thigh. Trent stopped moving and lay still and quiet in the dirt.
The killer stood up, keeping Trent in his sights the whole time. His shoulders rose and fell with his labored breathing, and he wiped a hand across his face.
In the glow of the headlights, Elise saw blood wet on his fingers.
He didn’t even bother to turn around when he said, “He’s still alive. Try to run and I’ll shoot him in the head.”
Elise stood right there, not daring to move a muscle.
I love you.
He’d said those magic words to her, and they’d changed her entire world. He hadn’t just been saying them as a distraction either. She’d been looking into his eyes when he spoke. He’d meant every word.
He loved her, and now he lay on the ground, bleeding because of her.
She never should have taken the risk of fighting back. If she hadn’t, Trent wouldn’t have attacked. He wouldn’t have been shot.
She was shivering with shock by the time the killer walked toward her. He wasn’t pointing his weapon at her, but he didn’t have to. She knew he’d use it if she so much as twitched.
She wasn’t afraid of dying as much as she was of not being able to save Trent. “Let me stop his bleeding,” she begged.
“No, I’ll do it,” said the killer. “But first, let’s make sure you don’t run off.”
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her across the broken ground to a tree. He looped one end of the plastic handcuff around her wrist and the other around a thick branch of a young tree. He pulled the plastic tight until it cut into her skin, securing her in place.
“Stay put.”
“Please hurry,” she said. “He’s losing a lot of blood.”
The killer smiled at her, then went back to where Trent lay. He pulled his booted foot back and kicked Trent in the ribs with a force that would have incapacitated a grown man.
Trent didn’t even flinch. His body flopped over the ground, and he lay still and silent.
It was then that Elise realized the man had lied. He had no intention of helping Trent. He was going to kill him. She’d been a fool to think otherwise.
Maybe he’d lied about Ashley being alive, too.
Elise felt hot tears fall down her cheeks.
The man dragged Trent over the ground, heedless of the blood seeping from his side. He holstered his gun, then heaved Trent up toward the open trunk of the car.