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Owen could be a dick and make the younger officer scour through the disgusting kitchen for evidence. He glanced around and tightened his jaw to stop from sighing. He’d take the kitchen. If the rest of the house was as empty as the living room, chances of finding anything useful were slim—making the grime-covered kitchen the most likely place to find a clue. Better if he took it on himself. “Head back to the bedroom. It’s a small house with not much stuff. Shouldn’t take too long. Keep your eyes and ears open.”
A glimmer of relief crossed over Steele’s face before he headed out of the kitchen, his heavy footsteps bouncing off the worn hardwood floors.
Owen surveyed the kitchen and grimaced. A black garbage can sat in the corner, the kind that fits under the sink and barely had space enough to hold a day’s-worth of trash. He crossed the room, the bottoms of his shoe sticking to some unknown substance on the floor. He checked his gag reflex and peered into the trash bin. Crumbled take-out bags and wadded paper towels spilled from the top and scattered on the linoleum floor.
A few scraps of loose paper caught his attention, and he dipped his hand inside to grab them. He unwrinkled the first. A receipt for a local fast-food restaurant. Time stamped the day before. He’d make a call to the restaurant as soon as possible and get access to their security feed. He retrieved an evidence bag from his duffle and secured the receipt.
He glanced at the other piece of paper. Garbled writing and smeared pen stared up at him. Nothing.
BEEP…BEEP!
The loud blast of a horn raised the hairs on his neck. He ran from the kitchen into the next room and shot toward the front door.
Officer Steele barreled down the hallway, his gun trained in his grip. “What’s going on?” His pinched-together face displayed his concern, but he kept his voice calm.
“It’s a car horn.” Adrenaline zipped through him. The other two officers who’d been on scene when he’d arrived were canvassing the area, and as far as he knew, the coroner hadn’t shown up yet for the body. The only person who’d blare a car horn was Marie, and she’d only do so if something was wrong.
“Keep your gun ready,” he said over his shoulder as he gripped the knob and yanked open the solid wood door. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it can’t be anything good. Be on your toes and stay close behind me.”
He pushed open the white, rusted screen door, and rain splattered his face. He scanned the area, searching for anything alarming that would set off Marie. Red taillights flashed at the end of the road. The two officers he’d sent to the neighbors dashed through the yard.
BEEEEEPPP!!!
Launching off the square cement stoop, Owen sprinted toward his car. Something wasn’t right. No one stood by the vehicle, but was someone inside? Had something spooked Marie that he couldn’t see? His heart hammered in his chest and water splashed up from the unruly grass as he ran through the yard. He reached the car, gripped the handle, and locked eyes with a young woman he didn’t know.
Shock paralyzed his limbs. He narrowed his gaze on the wide-eyed girl who seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place her. He flicked his gaze beside her—no Marie. What the hell was going on?
Yanking open the door, the weeping girl recoiled.
The mark on her cheek screamed to his gut, and the mossy green of her eyes stole the air from his lungs.
“My sister…you have to save my sister.” The words shook from her quivering chin.
“Renee?”
She nodded, and thick tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Where is she?” The woman he was falling in love with was likely in the hands of a murderer, and it was all his fault.
“Bill took her. He had a gun and told her if she didn’t leave with him, he’d kill me. I told her no…told her to stay. She told me to take care of Nora.” Renee pressed her hands over her mouth, and her voice broke, shoulders shaking.
Owen whipped back toward the road. The taillights had disappeared, the street empty. Marie was gone.
Marie whirled around, the swift movement causing the water dripping from the ends of her hair to splash on her face. The sound of a blasting car horn caused hope to bloom in her chest. Pride mingled with the sliver of hope. Renee would get help one way or the other, but it might come too late.
She faced forward, glancing at Bill from the corner of her eye. The gun sat on his lap, and every muscle in her body screamed to grab the weapon. But she had to be smart. Her mind raced faster than the tires speeding across town.
Owen might be aware Bill had her, but the head start Bill secured might mean he wouldn’t get to her before Bill did something stupid. She needed to get away from him, but hurtling through the mostly deserted streets in a car didn’t give her many options. Maybe if he slowed down, she could throw herself from the vehicle and pray she survived the fall.
Keeping the side of her gaze on Bill, she slid her hand up the door and hooked her fingers around the handle. If the moment presented itself, she’d be ready.
Muttered curses flew from Bill’s mouth. “You better hope your sister didn’t just sign your death certificate. I told her not to be stupid, but I should have known better. She’s as stubborn as you. I had to knock her around a bit to get her to listen.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Reminded me of some good times.”
Bile curdled in her stomach. She wanted to push his clammy hand off her skin, but she couldn’t risk angering him more. What had happened to make him such a monster? Had it always been there, and she’d missed the signs? It didn’t matter. She needed to focus on how to escape.
A flash of lightning lit the sky, highlighting the torrential downpour and showcasing the water pooling on the road. A different kind of fear shot through her. A fear rooted in a deep-seated memory. “Can you slow down? It’s not safe driving so fast with so much water on the road.”
Bill snorted. “Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about?”
