gripped her as trees flew by and she desperately pumped the brake.
And then what she’d glimpsed sank in. Long dark hair. An outstretched arm. Fingers. Flesh, covered with blood. Oh my God. Not an animal.
It had been a girl. Naked. In the middle of the road.
Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 5.02 P.M.
There was a buzzing in his ears.
‘Hey. Hey, buddy. Are you okay?’
He blinked, growling when someone shook his shoulder. His head hurt and he was woozy. He was also lying on the ground outside. What the hell? Memory returned in a rush. The trespasser, the guy from the power company. Ken. The bastard who’d tranqed him. The dead bastard whose body was still lying in plain view around back.
And the girl. Arianna. She was gone.
Shit . She was gone. I have to find her. I have to get her back. She’ll tell. She’ll ruin everything . He tried to sit up, but someone pushed him back down.
‘Don’t move.’ A man. Older, by the sound of his voice. ‘You’ve been in an accident. I saw your truck crashed up the road. How’d you get all the way down here? Well, you’re lucky I came by. Nobody lives here yet. Name’s Tommy Dilman, by the way. I’ll call 911.’
The hell you will. Forcing his eyes open, he saw Dilman kneeling beside him, pulling a cell phone from the pocket of his coveralls. Fury poured through him, giving him the strength to grab the phone from Dilman’s hand and throw it as hard as he could.
‘Hey!’ Dilman protested. ‘What the hell is wrong with you, buddy?’
He waited until Dilman had turned to retrieve the phone, then lunged to his feet and leaped, bringing the older man down in a tangle of limbs. Stunned, Dilman lay on his back, staring up.
He didn’t know what the old man was doing here. All he knew was that he was not calling 911, nor was he leaving here alive. He drew his switchblade from his pocket, and plunged it into Dilman’s throat. Warm blood spurted all over his hands as the man struggled like a fish on a hook. A minute later, the guy wasn’t moving at all.
He rolled off Dilman’s body and looked up at the sky. It was getting dark. He’d been out for a couple of hours at least. Plenty long enough for Arianna to get away, goddammit.
She’d escaped in the power company’s truck. But how had she escaped the basement? She never could have untied her ropes. And yet she was free.
He thought of Roza, bending over Arianna, talking to her, and his fists clenched. The ungrateful little bitch. She cut Arianna loose. I’ll beat her half to death, and if she sasses me, I’ll beat her the rest of the way . At least Roza hadn’t freed Corinne Longstreet. He had the only key to the shackles. Arianna was the real threat. She could be in the next town by now. Getting help .
Wait. The tranq-induced fog in his mind was beginning to clear. What had the old man said? I saw your truck crashed up the road. Dilman had thought he worked for the power company, that he’d wrecked the truck.
At least Arianna hadn’t gotten far. Pushing to his feet, he staggered for a few steps, finally getting his balance. Damn, he had a mess on his hands. Dilman was lying in a pool of his own blood, and Ken’s hand was visible at the back corner of the house. It was good that Dilman hadn’t seen the hand and investigated. He would have known the real meter reader was dead.
But now I have two bodies to hide. Sonofabitch .
He made his way behind the house to the old carriage house where he hid his van. He backed it out, keeping to the gravel road. Gravel was a wonderful material. It showed little evidence that it had been driven over and could be raked so that it looked perfectly undisturbed. None of the caretakers who’d come to cut the grass had ever suspected he’d been there.
Parked in front of the house was the old man’s car. On the door was a magnetic sign. Dilman’s Lock and Key. The guy was a locksmith.
He ground his teeth in rage. Faith had been a busy girl today. First calling the
And then what she’d glimpsed sank in. Long dark hair. An outstretched arm. Fingers. Flesh, covered with blood. Oh my God. Not an animal.
It had been a girl. Naked. In the middle of the road.
Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 5.02 P.M.
There was a buzzing in his ears.
‘Hey. Hey, buddy. Are you okay?’
He blinked, growling when someone shook his shoulder. His head hurt and he was woozy. He was also lying on the ground outside. What the hell? Memory returned in a rush. The trespasser, the guy from the power company. Ken. The bastard who’d tranqed him. The dead bastard whose body was still lying in plain view around back.
And the girl. Arianna. She was gone.
Shit . She was gone. I have to find her. I have to get her back. She’ll tell. She’ll ruin everything . He tried to sit up, but someone pushed him back down.
‘Don’t move.’ A man. Older, by the sound of his voice. ‘You’ve been in an accident. I saw your truck crashed up the road. How’d you get all the way down here? Well, you’re lucky I came by. Nobody lives here yet. Name’s Tommy Dilman, by the way. I’ll call 911.’
The hell you will. Forcing his eyes open, he saw Dilman kneeling beside him, pulling a cell phone from the pocket of his coveralls. Fury poured through him, giving him the strength to grab the phone from Dilman’s hand and throw it as hard as he could.
‘Hey!’ Dilman protested. ‘What the hell is wrong with you, buddy?’
He waited until Dilman had turned to retrieve the phone, then lunged to his feet and leaped, bringing the older man down in a tangle of limbs. Stunned, Dilman lay on his back, staring up.
He didn’t know what the old man was doing here. All he knew was that he was not calling 911, nor was he leaving here alive. He drew his switchblade from his pocket, and plunged it into Dilman’s throat. Warm blood spurted all over his hands as the man struggled like a fish on a hook. A minute later, the guy wasn’t moving at all.
He rolled off Dilman’s body and looked up at the sky. It was getting dark. He’d been out for a couple of hours at least. Plenty long enough for Arianna to get away, goddammit.
She’d escaped in the power company’s truck. But how had she escaped the basement? She never could have untied her ropes. And yet she was free.
He thought of Roza, bending over Arianna, talking to her, and his fists clenched. The ungrateful little bitch. She cut Arianna loose. I’ll beat her half to death, and if she sasses me, I’ll beat her the rest of the way . At least Roza hadn’t freed Corinne Longstreet. He had the only key to the shackles. Arianna was the real threat. She could be in the next town by now. Getting help .
Wait. The tranq-induced fog in his mind was beginning to clear. What had the old man said? I saw your truck crashed up the road. Dilman had thought he worked for the power company, that he’d wrecked the truck.
At least Arianna hadn’t gotten far. Pushing to his feet, he staggered for a few steps, finally getting his balance. Damn, he had a mess on his hands. Dilman was lying in a pool of his own blood, and Ken’s hand was visible at the back corner of the house. It was good that Dilman hadn’t seen the hand and investigated. He would have known the real meter reader was dead.
But now I have two bodies to hide. Sonofabitch .
He made his way behind the house to the old carriage house where he hid his van. He backed it out, keeping to the gravel road. Gravel was a wonderful material. It showed little evidence that it had been driven over and could be raked so that it looked perfectly undisturbed. None of the caretakers who’d come to cut the grass had ever suspected he’d been there.
Parked in front of the house was the old man’s car. On the door was a magnetic sign. Dilman’s Lock and Key. The guy was a locksmith.
He ground his teeth in rage. Faith had been a busy girl today. First calling the
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