“That’s all I’ve got so far,” I said. I was hopeful, he seemed to believe me. “Now will you put me back on the case?”
He contemplated for a few seconds, then rose to his feet. “Let’s walk.”
He walked to the door. He held it for me, and I walked out into the foyer, still awaiting his response. I really felt like I was on to something here.
We walked to the front door and stopped. He placed a fatherly hand on my shoulder. “Listen,” he said. “I can tell that you have worked really hard on this theory and I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I really do. I think you’re definitely on to something there. You make some valid points.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”
“Because there is. Wilde, you’re under investigation for your involvement in the attempted murder of your ex-partner. Now if it comes out in your favor then by all means we will let you get back on the case, if it hasn’t been solved by then.”
“But… that could take months,” I said. “I’m worried about Marissa.”
He shook his head. “I have had enough of this now.”
A little girl showed her face in the doorway behind him. I smiled at her. “Hi there, little girl.”
Doyle turned with a gasp. “How did you get in here?”
He rushed toward her, grabbed the girl in his arms, then put her in the study and closed the door. I stared at him, puzzled. He seemed agitated, frantic even.
“She’s been sick,” he said. “High fever. Strep throat. Luckily, it’s coming down now after I got her some antibiotics.”
“Hmm,” I said, puzzled. I was about to leave, when I stopped. “I didn’t know you had a little one. I thought your wife died years ago.”
“She did,” he said. “She had our baby right before she died. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to do.”
He had almost pushed me toward the door, when I spotted a framed diploma on his wall. I paused again.
I read his name. Jake Damian Doyle.
I turned to look at him with a gasp. That’s when I saw the gun in his hand. It was pointed at me. Without thinking, I lunged forward and grabbed his arm, with a loud scream, but he was too quick. He pushed me back and lifted his gun, but instead of firing, he hit me in the face with the grip. Everything went black and I tumbled to the ground. I could hear him panting, agitated, and felt a sharp pain in my head, before I drifted into oblivion.
SEVENTY-FOURMARISSA
Marissa opened her eyes slowly, squinting against the inky darkness. What was that? What had woken her up? Was someone screaming? Or had that been a dream? Was it Emma?
Emma!
She felt the rug beneath her, rough and scratchy against her skin, and sensed her arms were bound tightly. Every muscle in her body quivered as fear coursed through her veins like an electric current.
Where am I? Why can’t I move?
She heard an engine turn on and, seconds later, she felt movement. She realized she was inside some kind of vehicle. There was the faint smell of motor oil and the rumble of an engine. She blinked and soon her vision adjusted to the gloom. She tried to remember what had happened.
She remembered him. He was there, in the shed.
Damian.
Her kidnapper. The man who had taken everything from her. The father of her four children. He had tried to strangle her with a belt, but somehow—by luck or miraculous intervention—she had managed to trick him. She had let her body go numb and he had let go of her. She had passed out.
He must have thought I was dead, she thought, dread washing over her again. I need to get out of here.
Desperately, Marissa tried to push away the rug and move her limbs but found herself tied up too tightly. Her breath came out in shallow gasps as panic welled up inside her chest.
Where is he taking me? she wondered frantically, while her heart pounded in her chest.
She thrashed in the darkness, searching in vain for a glimmer of light. As the vehicle rumbled on, Marissa tried to calm herself down, to think rationally. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to focus on her surroundings. She could hear the sound of other cars passing by, and the occasional honk of a horn. They must be in the city, she realized. Maybe she would get lucky, and a cop car would find reason to pull them over.
But as the vehicle continued to weave its way through the streets, Marissa began to lose hope. Soon she heard barely any cars pass them, and everything seemed to go quiet around her, except for the engine of the car she was in. She didn’t know where she was or where they were going. It was as though she was moving through a dark, never-ending tunnel, with no idea of what lay ahead.
She was alone, bound and helpless, with no one to turn to. She had to remain calm and think clearly if she was going to survive.
As she struggled to free herself, she felt a glimmer of hope. Her captor had underestimated her. He had thought she was dead and had let his guard down. She had to take advantage of that.
Marissa closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, willing herself to remain calm. She had to find a way out of this situation. She couldn’t let Damian win.
Finally, Marissa heard the vehicle come to a halt and the engine was turned off. She heard footsteps approaching and held her breath.
SEVENTY-FIVEBILLIE ANN
I woke up to a burning sensation. A pain that traveled up my body as I was dragged across the ground. I squinted, feeling the dried mud and muck on my face, and when I opened my eyes, I saw the sun peeking out from behind the clouds.
My head was spinning, pain radiating from a sharp ache at the temple where I had been hit with the grip of the gun.
I know this place, I thought as I managed to look at my surroundings. The air felt damp on my skin, and the lush bushes surrounding me reminded me of a place I knew very well.
Damian had taken me into the swamp, and I knew what he was planning to do. It was the perfect plan. He had brought me here to kill me. No one would ever find me, and my body would be eaten by gators and vultures before they even realized I was gone.
