Page 68 of Protect My Heart

Following the arrow drawn in the makeup, Jim carefully picked up the compact. With gentle fingers, he opened the lid. A brass key fell into his hand. His fingers tightened around it.

CJ watched as Jim’s fingers unfurled. “A key. What’s it to?”

“I wish I knew. It was hidden in her father’s military knife.” His gaze locked with his partner’s. “Apparently it’s something worth killing for.”

Jim pulled out his phone, and dialed. “Daniels, I need your magic tech skills.”

“Any luck?” Jim asked Ryan as he entered the station.

“Two employees at the prison served with O’Roarke.” Ryan’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he talked. “Davis Sampson and Richard Finden.”

Jim leaned over and looked at the photo of the platoon on the right monitor, no visible birthmark, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He moved his attention to the other monitor, and scanned the list of prison personnel. “I met them both. Sampson was the guard who brought O’Roarke’s effects the day Doc and I picked them up.”

“And the other is—”

“Warden Finden.” Jim rubbed his neck as he paced. Bits and pieces shifted around in his mind as he analyzed his brief encounters with the men. “I wish I had Doc’s ability to profile.”

His chest fell. Damn it, where are you, Doc?

Ryan’s demeanor portrayed a calm that Jim knew was false. “I requested these guys’ military records, but even with the rush, it could take a few days.”

Jim’s hands slid into his hair. Gripping, he pulled until his hair stood on end. A quick glance at the time had his stomach tying in knots that an Eagle Scout would be proud of. “We don’t have that kind of time.”

“Statistically, he could have killed her by now.” Ryan’s cheeks pinked and his lips twisted. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t like that it’s been an hour, but my gut tells me she’s alive.” Jim pulled out his phone and texted CJ. When Jim left, his partner had been questioning his uncle about the break-in at the house. “This isn’t your typical psycho. He’s connected to her father in some way. The note Patty O’Roarke left his daughter on the back of a drawing talked about a knife.”

“What knife?” Ryan asked.

“We found his military knife in his things in the basement. This key was hidden in the handle, but we haven’t found the safe it belongs to.” Jim fired another text off to his partner asking him to check with Rosa about a safe.

While Ryan started a background search on Sampson and Finden, Jim pushed his anxiety aside and focused on where the guy would take her. He has to own property. A few keystrokes and he was in the county property records. Sampson owned a small house in Bayport. He pulled up the satellite map. Nice neighborhood. “Anything on Sampson yet?”

“The guy has a wife and seventeen-year-old daughter. A credit rating of 753 and no priors. His Facebook profile shows a smiling family at the beach with their dog.” Ryan went back to his search.

Jim’s gut told him this wasn’t the guy, but he couldn’t rule him out on a family and credit rating. He keyed Warden Finden into the site. No house.

He rubbed the back of his neck. Not that it helped loosen the knots the size of Tigger’s chew toys in his shoulders. Deep breath in, and out. Nope, not working. He dropped his head to the side and did a slow roll from shoulder to shoulder, and finished his attempt to unknot the tension with a good old shoulder roll. One crack and pop and his torso relaxed a fraction, but it did nothing to loosen the feelings of dread with each minute that passed. “Anything on the warden?”

Ryan’s brows pulled in. “This is strange. The guy’s twice widowed. First time, from his wife of fifteen years. She died in a car wreck. He was married to the second wife for two years. One Rhonda Finden was found dead in her bath last July.” He looked up at Jim. “Apparent suicide.”

“One dead wife I could believe, but two?” Jim changed his search to find as much on the friendly warden as possible. He looked for businesses or any properties owned by his dearly departed wives.

“Swenson, did you know the warden had transferred to Stillwater Corrections last August?” Ryan’s eyes stayed glued to the screen and his fingers moved faster than a teenager texting. “I’m reaching out to the Anoka police department now for the case files.”

This was his guy. Jim’s fingertips tingled, the same fingertips that would choke the life out of the warden if he laid a finger on Doc.

“Turn here.” At least he hadn’t knocked her out and thrown her in the trunk. Liz hadn’t been to this part of town before. They had to be getting close to the river. She sunk into her mother’s old coat. She wiggled her fingers inside the cashmere-lined gloves. They weren’t the only thing she found in the pockets. A couple old tissues and a five dollar bill were crammed inside. No weapon, though.

Would they shoot her and dump her body in the water? She shivered.

What if he’d already done that to Tigger?

Her lungs labored as she fought to control her breathing. No. Don’t panic. It never helped.

Her gaze cut to Romeo. Maybe this time.

Her lungs fought to take in enough air. “I need my medication from my purse.”