Page 80 of Knox

“Nash?”

“Standing by.”

Knox studied the building for another long moment, and I could practically feel him weighing the options, calculating risks.

“Let’s go,” Knox said finally.

“Roger.”

My stomach clenched with gut-twisting fear. Approaching a dangerous man’s potential lair seemed suddenly ridiculous.

“Let’s be quick.” Knox’s voice was hard, controlled. “In and out. We’re only looking for confirmation of a squatter.”

Colton and Maggie approached the building first. He moved with the careful coordination of someone who’d spent time in dangerous places. Maggie met him step for step.

Colton checked the windows while she tested the door, pushing it open slowly. Hinges squealed in protest, the sound sharp and jarring in the quiet forest.

Nothing moved inside or out.

Colton disappeared through the doorway, Maggie following close behind. Seconds ticked past, each one stretching longer than the last.

“Clear,” Colton’s voice crackled through the radio. “It’s just us in here, but you need to see this.”

Knox led me across the clearing, his hand in mine.

Every step that brought us closer to the abandoned building tightened my chest and lungs.

I winced as we reached the soft, rotting-wood staircase. Then the wrap-around observation deck. My heart raced as we crossed the threshold. I wasn’t one to believe in things unseen, but the energy around me felt suddenly dark and cold.

Sunlight streamed through the broken windows, illuminating a space effectively frozen in time. A battered old desk covered in dirt and animal scat. Empty metal filing cabinets with drawers hanging open. Maps tacked to walls alongside faded safety posters.

But someone had been here more recently too. Their additions cluttered the corners. A small amount of camping equipment. A cooler hummed with battery-powered refrigeration. A sleeping bag rolled neatly on a rusty old cot. Newer maps lay beneath the bed, their corners slightly visible upon approach. Colton dragged both carefully into view. A series of familiar markings and annotations made my blood run cold.

Those were Claire’s maps.

“He’s been studying Mom’s trail maps,” Knox said quietly, moving silently closer. He cursed and crouched before the items. “He could’ve been learning from them. Using them to hunt.”

I squatted beside him to examine the script more closely. My heart broke, and tears stung my eyes. Three poor women had taken advice from someone they trusted and never made it home.

“Oh God.” Maggie’s voice was thin, shocked.

We turned in unison to find her several feet away, waving to us from the next room. “Knox. Look.”

Then men were in motion.

I followed.

Beyond Maggie, just around the corner, a full wall of surveillance-style photographs were arranged in a cluster. Images of a woman in her car. Outside Island Adventures. At a party. Eating on her patio. Completely clueless to the predator who was watching her.

His next victim.

Me.

Chapter 26

Sloane

Panic rose in my chest as I scanned the seemingly endless photos of me on this wall. Me walking into Island Adventures. Climbing into my car at the trailhead. Preparing for my parents’ anniversary party. Standing on my back patio at sunset, coffee mug in hand, completely unaware someone was watching from a distance.