It took a lot for her to say this, to explain what she was feeling and fearing deep inside. She might as well not have bothered, because Kerry stared at her as if she was nuts.

  "Lauren is dead. She's gone. There's no way she's still alive. She was killed by some psycho. Her killer either moved on to a different state, or died, or else didn't feel the need to kill again. It’s impossible this is the same person, ten years later."

  Her voice was hard and totally unsympathetic.

  May flinched, unable to believe that her sister was being so cold.

  "You're completely wrong," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

  Kerry was standing over her, looking powerful.

  "Listen to yourself. You're making this up, and it's ludicrous. Has the pressure gotten to you? Is that the problem? Because if you can't handle the pressure, then you're not fit for duty."

  May was shaking with anger. She was shaking with fury and humiliation. She clenched her fists in her lap.

  "You don't have the right to threaten me," she said.

  "It's not a threat," Kerry spat back. "It's a promise. If you want to keep your job, stay in line while we're here. You're not qualified to be in charge of anything. You are just a deputy. Learn to take orders. That’s your role."

  May couldn't take it anymore.

  "I am not listening to any more of this," she snapped. “How dare you taunt and humiliate me like this? What is your problem? Is it that you’re not making progress on the case, and you feel stalled?”

  Her sister flinched. Now, May knew her words had hit home.

  “If that’s the case, then why take it out on me when I’m offering to help you? Think about it! Pride might end up being your downfall,” May spat.

  Unable to continue this argument, or even look at her sister for one more moment, she stood up and marched out. She stormed past Jack and Owen, waiting by the interview room, ignoring their anxious glances and Owen’s muttered, “Are you okay?”

  She was not okay. It felt like her entire world was collapsing.

  And May knew she had to get out of there.

  She carried on walking. Through the lobby, out of the front door. The tears ran down her face as she hurried to her car. Flinging herself into the driver's seat, she started the engine, and drove away.

  Her whole body was shaking, and she couldn't stop the tears. Confusion and misery threatened to overwhelm her. She’d let her team down, let her boss down. Her sister resented her. She'd been accused of being incapable.

  Her job was under threat.

  Never mind that: her whole life was under threat, and she didn't know what to do.

  Kerry’s words had seared into her, and the humiliation felt raw. Had Kerry known how hurtful those insults had been?

  May was boiling over with so much emotion, she didn't know what to do with herself. She accelerated along the road leading past the woods. She was in such a fury she barely saw the movement in the trees.

  And then, she yelled in horror as a ragged, terrified young woman, her clothes dripping with water and her feet bare, sprinted out from the trees, directly into the path of May's speeding car.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  May slammed on the brakes, hearing the tires scream on the blacktop. She wrenched the wheel to the side, gripping it fiercely as she struggled for control of the truck.

  With a desperate swerve, she missed the fleeing girl.

  Reacting instinctively, she pulled over onto the side of the road, jumped out, and set off in pursuit.

  "I’m police! You don't have to run! You're safe!" she yelled, realizing that since she was in plainclothes, the terrified girl had no idea of her credentials.

  The girl didn't stop. She didn't even look back. Instead, she kept running, slipping over the wet grass, her creased dress flapping in the wind, her dark, tangled hair flying behind her.

  May followed her, her feet pounding over the ground.

  The girl was swerving and stumbling, running wildly. Veering back into the woods, she crashed over branches, bushes, and fallen logs.

  May had never run so fast in her life. Her lungs were burning, and her limbs were aching, but she didn't let up for an instant.

  The girl was fear-stricken, running without direction. She didn't even seem to hear May. She was sobbing and gasping for breath. But she was running out of steam. May was gaining.

  She closed the distance between them. And then, the girl collapsed on the ground with a cry of despair.

  May skidded to a stop and rushed to her side.

  "It's okay. You're okay. I've got you."

  She crouched down and held the girl’s hands in her own. Her fingers felt icy cold.

  "I'm a police officer," she told her, trying to sound calm. "You're safe. You're safe. You're not in danger and you don’t have to run."

  The girl was soaked to the skin. Her bare arms and legs were covered in scratches and cuts, and her face and hair were streaked with mud. She seemed too exhausted now to struggle. Her eyes were wide with fear.

  "It's okay," May said again. "You're okay."

  She pulled the girl to her feet, and the girl slumped against her.

  "Just breathe now. Just take it easy."

  She held the girl tightly, feeling the panic slowly leaving her body.

  "What's your name?" she asked.

  "C - Claire Wilson."

  "Claire, what happened?" May thought she might know some of the background. She hoped she was correct. But she needed the girl to tell her.

  The girl burst into tears all over again.

  "I - I was being kept prisoner. Locked up. He - this man was going to kill me. But I got away."

  May's eyes widened. She'd heard enough. It was clear that this was another of the killer’s hostages. She had no idea of the full circumstances, but knew they needed to get a proper statement from her as soon as possible.

  She stared around. This woman had fled for her life. May felt sure, with a cold certainty, that the killer was close by. Perhaps even watching from the cover of the forest as this rescue scene played out. She wanted to storm into the woods and search for him, but there were too many hiding places. She knew he’d run for cover as soon as she left, and this girl was in dire need of medical attention.

  Carefully, step by step, she led the sobbing, shaking girl back to her car and helped her inside.

  Then she drove back to the police department, still feeling utterly shocked by what had just played out.

  *

  May parked close to the building and helped Claire out of the car. Owen must have been looking out for her to come back, because he rushed out of the building almost immediately.

  "What's going on?" he asked, concerned.

  "This is Claire," May explained. "She escaped from being held captive." She gave Owen a meaningful look. Owen froze, his eyes widening in understanding.

  "Where were you held, ma’am?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure," Claire sobbed. "It was underground. Somewhere quiet. I don’t know more. I was taken out in the trunk of a car."

  "Come inside. Let's get you warm, and settle you down," May said.

  They led Claire into the lobby and ushered her through to a back room. She was still shaking like a leaf, but her breathing was slowing down, and her tears were beginning to calm.

  May got her into the room, turned the heater on as high as it would go, and fetched her a warm jacket, a blanket, a cup of sweet milky tea, and a few cookies. While she was getting the victim settled, she heard Owen whispering outside, explaining to Kerry and Sheriff Jack what had just played out.

  A moment later, Kerry barged into the room, looking horrified. May didn't know if it was because of the victim's shocking state, or because May had found her first.

  May needed to continue with the biggest priorities. Kerry’s questioning could wait.

  She turned and glared at her sister. Then she turned back to the shivering girl.

  "How can we contact your parents?" May asked. "Where do they live?"

  Claire shook her head.

  "I haven't lived at home for a year. My parents and I fought. I moved out and I've been renting a cottage. They don’t know I’m missing yet. I knew nobody would know where I was. That's why nobody came looking for me," she said, gasping with sobs.

  May felt chilled to think what had happened.

  “When were you taken?” she asked.

  "I – I don’t know. I was heading out in the evening. I don't know how long ago it was. It was impossible to tell time, down there. A week, I think, probably more. He grabbed me. As I was leaving. He - he put a rag over my face. I think it was chloroform. I woke up in the building. In this tiny, dark, underground room. But there were other rooms. Other girls there. They came and went. We used to talk in whispers. If he heard us, he would kill us."

  "How many others?"

  "There was a new girl, who came in - I don't know, a day or two ago, maybe?"

  That would be the prom queen, Cassandra, May thought, feeling a surge of hope that she was still alive.

  Claire continued. "And another who'd been there a long, long time."

  Now, May felt shivers down her spine. She resisted the temptation to glare accusingly at Kerry once more. This could be Lauren.

  "He was going to kill me," she said.

  May could see her trembling as she spoke. She was still so scared.

  "Who is he? Did you ever see him?" May asked.

  Claire shrugged.

  "I don't know who he was," she said. "I never saw his face clearly. I think he spied on me, though. That's what the other girl said he did. He looked at us. Like we were his - his collection. He called us his specimens. He spoke to us sometimes. I would recognize his voice." She shivered.

  "Do you know where this was?"

  Claire shook her head.

  “It was quiet. Not in town, I don’t think."

  “How did you get away?”

  “He put a rag over my face, down in the basement room, but I held my breath. I tried not to breathe in too much of it. I woke up in time to loosen the ropes in the trunk of the car. It was so scary. But I don’t know where I was taken from.”

  May had hoped for more information, but Claire genuinely didn’t seem to know.

  “You were very brave,” she praised her.

  "I wish I could help you more. But I didn't see anything but the inside of that room, sometimes, when the light was on. It was dull, dirty, tiny. I don't know. I don't want to think about it."

  There was one more question May needed to ask.

  “Did you hire a boat from Lake Adventures recently?”

  Claire nodded.

  “I used to go kayaking every week on the lake.”

  May felt dizzy with relief that she’d asked that question. Again, the common thread was apparent. Now, Claire needed to go to the hospital, get checked over, get warmed up and fed and watered.

  The marina, without a doubt, was looking like the hunting ground.

  But where was the prison this killer was keeping them? It could be outside any of the towns surrounding the lake, or even on the shores of the lake itself.

  She stood up and walked out of the small room. As she reached the door, she turned and glanced at Kerry.

  Her sister got up and followed her out.

  May decided she was not going to back down this time.

  "You heard what Claire said," she hissed. "There's someone he's keeping, that's been there for years. It could be Lauren! It could be our sister! And even if it isn't, it's someone who has a life, a family, and deserves to be out of there."

  "I - " Kerry said, but May could not be stopped.

  "I am going to investigate. I can’t drop this. Not now, not knowing this. I'm going to work with you or work on my own. But I'm not leaving this be. So you decide. Accept it, or you can tell Sheriff Jack to fire me."

  Quivering all over, she turned and walked away.

  She had laid down the challenge - in fact, more of an ultimatum, and knew that she would now have to accept the consequences.

  She waited for Kerry to call her back, but there was only silence behind her. May decided she would take that as tacit agreement that for now, she was free to pursue her next lead. She didn’t think, right then, that Kerry had the heart or the will to stop her.

  May knew where she wanted to go, and what information she needed next. She was sure it would be important in finding the killer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  When May walked out to her car, she heard a voice calling her name, and swung around.

  It was Owen. He was running across the road after her.

  She had not wanted to involve him. She'd deliberately refrained from speaking to him at all. She felt terrible that her own reckless actions had already gotten him into trouble and didn’t want to involve him any further in the gray area of the rules she now seemed to be navigating.

  But here he was.

  “I couldn’t help hearing what you said to your sister,” he told her. “You were talking in quite a loud voice. I noticed she didn’t tell you to stop. So, if you are carrying on, I’m coming with you.”

  May stared at him in concern.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, glancing back at the building.

  Owen shrugged. “Having you go out on your own is also not a good idea. I’m your investigation partner. And I believe you’re right, and we should all be doing whatever it takes to solve this. I can’t stop thinking about Cassandra and wondering if she’s still alive and how she’s feeling if she is, and what her parents must be going through. It’s not fair to tell us to walk down Main Street and issue parking fines!”

  May raised her eyebrows. Owen clearly felt just as passionately about this as she did.

  “Okay. As long as you know there might be consequences, then I’d love you to come along,” she said, and as they climbed into the car, she realized that with her partner beside her, this gray day did feel suddenly brighter.

  “I feel that the common thread seems to be the marina. Savannah, Shelby, and Claire all hired boats from Lake Adventures. And the lake would be a good place to watch people from,” May said.

  "What about Cassandra?" Owen asked. “Did she hire a boat?”

  "I didn’t see her name in the register, but I’m wondering if that matters. She could easily have gone out sailing with a friend and been noticed by the killer. She’s very good looking and if she caught his eye, he could have followed her home. It was springtime. Everyone was having parties and socializing. Just because she didn't hire a boat personally, doesn't mean she didn't end up on one," May insisted.

  "Should we check?" Owen asked. “Perhaps we could call her parents? That might be easier than going there right now.”

  "Good idea."

  As they drove, May called the Coles. Owen was right. Although paying a personal visit was more respectful, making a phone call was less risky in view of their current uncertain status in the investigation.

  A woman grabbed the call almost immediately, sounding frazzled. May felt a surge of sympathy, knowing how hard any phone call must be for this household at this time. Every phone call must bring hopes and fears surging to the forefront.

  "Hello, this is deputy May Moore," she said as calmly as she could.

  "Oh, yes," the woman said, sounding eager for news.

  "I just called to confirm some information. I wanted to check if, by any chance, you knew if Cassandra had been out on a boat recently."

  "Out on a boat? She didn't really like sailing," the woman said.

  But then, just as May's hopes were plummeting, someone said something in the background.

  "Oh, wait," the woman said. "There was a spring party a couple of weeks ago. The last Saturday in April, I remember. They hired a boat at Lake Adventures. Cassandra went along to that. They didn't go far out on the lake, though. I remember she told me it was fun."

  "That's so helpful. I appreciate it."

  May cut the call, feeling hopeful.

  Cassandra had been out on the lake. And, furthermore, she had not been far but had stayed close to shore. So at this stage, they now knew the killer would have been close to Lake Adventures.

  That meant he must have a vantage point in the area close to the marina that he used to scope out his victims.

  *

  May drove as fast as she could and reached Lake Adventures ten minutes later.

  The place was bustling with a surge of afternoon trade. The two redheaded boys were racing around between clients, and a petite redheaded woman, clearly their mother, was rushing between the marina and the office, trying to coordinate the clients.

  May headed over to her.

  "I'd like to hire a speedboat for an hour," she said.

  The redheaded woman smiled sadly.

  "No chance of that today," she said. "They're all booked until evening. We already have one person waiting."

  May stared at Owen, feeling devastated. Her plan was not going to be workable.

  But Owen said calmly, "A rowboat will be just as good."

  “Oh. Then we can help you. We have one of those available,” she said.

  A rowboat?

  May regarded her partner with fresh admiration as the woman led the way to a small, basic rowboat, painted bright blue.

  Quickly, May paid, and they clambered into the rocking boat.

  "I am so grateful you can row," she said.

  "I was school champion," Owen said modestly, picking up the oars. "That was a while ago, but I've kept in shape since then. Or tried to, anyway."

  The oars cut through the water. Immediately, May saw this plan would work, and they could get far enough to see what they needed to.

  With her partner rowing them quietly and steadily, she could feel her excitement rising. They could do this. It would work.

  All they needed to do was to find a vantage point where the killer might have lurked.

 

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