Had she heard a footfall ahead? She stopped dead, listening. She thought she had, but now that she was standing still, the woods were blanketed in silence again.

  She paced forward, moving more carefully now.

  As the minutes passed, and May wound her way ever deeper into the woods, she started to think she was on the wrong track, and that Owen had chosen the right route. Because there was nothing to be found here. She must have gone a mile alone. Perhaps it was time to turn back. If Owen had chosen the right way, he could be coming face to face with the killer at any moment.

  May slowed, breathing hard, feeling overwhelmed with the implications this decision would have.

  And then, the glitter of silver gleamed in a patch of sunshine ahead.

  Staring at it, May paced forward. It was a delicate silver chain. It was lying in the trail, with the sun sparkling on it, almost like a beacon pointing the way.

  May couldn’t shake the image of that chain being pulled from Primrose’s throat, perhaps after being caught on something, as the killer adjusted his grip.

  And then, she stopped again, her senses sparking with adrenaline. She'd heard something ahead.

  Something that got her spine prickling. Something she'd never, ever expected to hear.

  It was a muffled choking noise, almost inaudible. But most definitely it was a woman's voice. It was coming from further down the track, where May could see a small, leafy clearing in the trees.

  Her heart was banging in her throat as she crept forward. Had Primrose regained consciousness; was she trying to cry for help? Had the killer left her here and gone somewhere nearby, to prepare a grave?

  May knew this might be her only chance to save the victim.

  She'd dreaded that she had been killed already, that they would find the body buried. She'd prepared herself for that. She'd been steeling herself for that truth.

  But suddenly, there was hope. Despite the danger, if she was quick and quiet, she had a chance to save this captured woman.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  There she was! May couldn't believe it. As she paced silently into the clearing, she saw that Primrose was there in front of her. She was blindfolded, her hands were fastened tightly behind her and wrapped around the trunk of a tree, and a thick gag in her mouth was preventing her from uttering more than the softest moan. There was a rope around her neck, holding her tightly to the tree.

  Worse still, in her efforts to free herself, the rope around her neck had tightened, almost lethally. In horror, May saw that she was on the point of suffocation. Between the rope and the gag, Primrose could barely breathe. She was close to losing consciousness, May saw. She was choking violently, her shoulders heaving.

  This was now an emergency. She had to get the rope and the gag off this woman’s neck. There was no time to do anything but save her.

  There was no sight of Brian, no sound of him. She was sure that he was somewhere in the area, digging a grave in the soft soil. She'd gotten here just in time to be able to save a life.

  May rushed forward, hoping she could get this woman freed, and breathing easily, as soon as she could.

  Primrose was choking and coughing through her gag, in a panic, her shoulders hunched, her breath rasping and rattling in her throat. With shaking hands, May quickly worked to get the gag out of her mouth. The woman flinched when May touched her, and she realized that sudden touch, in her darkness, must have been terrifying.

  She peeled the gag away. It was wet with saliva. Primrose gasped in another shallow, rattling breath. Removing the gag hadn‘t helped much. The main problem was that she was choking from the rope.

  Feeling frantic, May undid her blindfold, so at least she could see she was being helped. Blinking in what must have felt like dazzling light after the darkness he'd plunged her into, her wide green eyes met May's in a desperate appeal.

  Then, May hastily fumbled her penknife out of her pocket. It was now imperative to cut through the rope fastening Primrose’s neck, or she would die. Then she could call Owen, and then work on the woman’s wrist ties.

  "Primrose, I'm here for you," she whispered, as she gently sawed at the rope. “Be very quiet. I’m going to take you out of here.”

  The woman’s breath was coming in harsh gasps. She was shaking with the effort of breathing. Her skin was cold and her face icy pale. May was touched by how young and vulnerable the victim looked. She seemed about twenty-two, severely distressed, and clearly on the point of asphyxiation.

  She reached for the penknife, and flipped out the longest blade. It was time to free this woman, as fast as she could.

  The rope was thick, knotted. It was tight, and May had to hack at it with her penknife, a slow laborious task. She didn't want to waste any time, but she also didn't want to cut or damage the woman's throat.

  It was difficult to cut through. It had been wound around several times, and the blade kept threatening to snap. May had to push hard to get it through. She tucked her gun back in her holster and placed her phone on the ground beside her so that she could use both hands.

  She knew that at any second, she might hear footsteps behind her that signaled the killer was coming back. She turned her head this way and that, listening carefully. But at least he clearly wasn't expecting to find her here, and that gave her an advantage.

  But finally, she’d managed to cut through that tight, choking rope. She eased it away from Primrose’s neck and the woman took a long, rattling gasp of air, wheezing and coughing.

  May felt weak with relief that she’d managed to save her from a terrible, ghastly death. And now, it was time to call Owen. She needed to know that help was on the way, before she did another thing.

  But as May reached for her phone, she heard a rustle above her head. From the tree above, someone dropped like a stone.

  May shrieked as a foot kicked her in the head, so hard that she sprawled down, thumping on the ground, the rough earth and leaves raking her chin and hands.

  For a confused moment, she had no idea what had happened. This was all so impossible. She'd seen nothing. Heard nothing. Had it been a falling branch?

  But even as her body slammed to the ground in shock, her mind was racing ahead, and in that moment, May knew the killer had her. This entire setup had been a trap, perhaps all the way down to the silvery lure of that necklace.

  He had wanted to trap her, knowing that she would be unable to call for help until she’d saved the woman, on the point of death. In that moment, she realized this was the last, desperate stage of his plan, which he was now successfully winging.

  Stunned and shocked, she scrambled to get up, knowing it was time to fight or die. But it was too late. A foot slammed down into her shoulder blade, crushing the breath out of her so that she choked and gasped.

  A rough hand tugged her gun from her belt and the next thing May knew, it had been tossed into the bushes. She heard a scrape as her phone was kicked away.

  She fought for all she was worth, flailing against the foot that was crushing her down, doing her best to writhe from out of his hold.

  But he was far too strong. She'd been winded, and he was subduing her with ruthless efficiency. She was pinned down, and the next moment, she felt his hands on her. She'd lost her penknife. That was gone. Her gun was lost.

  He was a monster.

  More than that, he was clearly an experienced fighter who was good at his job, which was to seize the element of surprise, and overpower his victims quickly and effectively. As May struggled, she was unable to make any inroads against him.

  May kicked out, and clawed at the earth, the leafy ground. But still she was unable to escape his hold.

  “Help!” she screamed.

  "You're a smart lady," he gasped into her ear. "You're a smart one. You figured it out. But you’d better watch it, because if you scream again, then I’m going to hurt her. Not you. Her."

  May froze, shocked by that terrible threat. And then, a rope was looping her wrists together and pulling tight behind her back. She knew she was going to have to fight like the devil if she was going to save herself.

  She could feel his breath on her neck as he worked on her. The friction of the rope abraded her wrists as he pulled even harder, seeking to immobilize her.

  She tried to kick out again, and when he grabbed her knee, she used the opportunity to writhe even farther to the side and away from him.

  She kicked out, flailing, trying to head butt him even as she desperately struggled to get the ropes free.

  He was strong, still much stronger than her, but she'd hurt him now, and she was desperate to save herself. Her life depended on it. May gritted her teeth, and kicked out again, desperately. If she could hurt him, she might get away! She might yet live. She had to. She could not let this cruelly intelligent man get the better of her.

  And then, when she thought she was going to be able to wrench herself free, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and with a sharp, sudden jerk, wrenched her head back.

  The sudden pain took her breath away, and in that moment, he pulled the rope tight. Now her hands were pinned behind her back, and he was dragging her to the tree.

  He grabbed her by the throat with one hand, his fingers digging into her neck, a move she'd not anticipated, and it made her gasp for breath.

  May was coughing too badly to try, choking from the brutal pressure he'd exerted on her throat. Before she could blink, he had looped the rope around the tree, holding the end of it tightly so she could not escape.

  In that moment, May could see the killer before her, the monster she'd been tracking. He looked like a normal, average, thirty-something-year-old man, except his face was a mask of rage and twisted intent.

  And then, to her shock, the rage evaporated. In its place, she saw an incredulous smile.

  "I have you at last," he whispered.

  She stared at him in horror, but as she did so, understanding slowly dawned.

  Lauren had never been on this man's hit list. Never been his target. But she had. Thanks to her name, he had known about her and known who she was.

  "Oh, May. May Moore," he whispered. "What a surprise. I never, ever thought I'd get you. You were only ever someone I dreamed of taking. Your name. May. The flowering shrub. Such pretty, distinctive shrubs, with a profusion of white flowers. Delicate and beautiful. Oh, you were on my list, my little May."

  He leaned forward, breathing in deeply, and May remembered with a shiver that she smelled of his triggering scent, Joy.

  "You're wearing the perfume I need already," he hissed. "We have to do it, now. That scent brings the demons, and while they are here, you must die, so they can be gone forever."

  He leaned close to her, reaching up to the tree, taking down the soft pillow that he’d wedged high in the branches.

  Pushing it against her face, he whispered, "May. May Moore, I'm going to kill you now."

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  May felt paralyzed with horror for a brief, blood-curdling moment. She'd been so wrong. Wrong about everything. Wrong that the killer had wanted Lauren. She'd never realized that she herself had been one of the people on his list.

  Owen was far away, searching the other side of the track. She hadn't had the chance to call him, thanks to the clever setup that had lured her straight into the clearing.

  She'd done exactly what he'd wanted her to do. It had all been so easy for him.

  May had no one to turn to in her moment of mortal danger. She was alone. The killer – this cold, remorseless monster – was right in front of her, and he was going to kill her. He was going to carry out the sentence of a psychopath, someone who had no interest in human life, nor any human feeling.

  She was going to die. And then he would kill Primrose, too.

  A voice in her head cried out, No! You can't let him! And as May heard Primrose gasp in renewed terror, she knew that this was not an option. No way could she allow this to happen. This victim deserved to live, and May would have to save her.

  She wasn't going to die here. Not without a fight.

  The longer she fought, the bigger the chance that Owen might end up realizing something was wrong, and turn back to look for May. Her deputy and she often thought the same way. Perhaps, deep inside him, Owen knew.

  The longer May could fight, the more time she’d give him to come and find her.

  She struggled against the soft pillow with everything she had. She fought its suffocating embrace, twisting and writhing. She kicked out, tried to hurt him with her boot. She flailed and twisted her bound hands, trying to get loose.

  But he just laughed, evading her attempts. She was trapped against the tree.

  “Struggle all you like,” he whispered. “The longer this takes, the more I will enjoy it.”

  He removed the pillow, adjusted his grasp on it, and May knew he was ready to crush her face with it again, tighter this time.

  And then, at that moment, May heard a noise she hadn't expected.

  A loud, whirring, slapping noise. The noise of fast-approaching helicopter blades.

  Kerry and the FBI were coming - and they weren't coming by car, as May had expected. They were in a chopper that was flying directly overhead, and that gave May the barest edge of a fighting chance. While she could speak, before that pillow came down a second time, she had to use her voice.

  Her wits against his.

  The helicopter blotted out the sun for a moment, casting a darker shadow into the dim light of the clearing. The noise was loud and threatening. It was flying so low that it was almost at treetop level.

  And May realized that if she played her cards right, she had one chance now. Just one chance at a bluff that could buy her enough time to possibly save her life.

  "Look there! They've got a gun!" May yelled, staring up at the shadow above. "They're aiming it at you. Goodbye, sucker! The FBI is going to blow you away!"

  And Brian hesitated.

  He looked up.

  Psychopath or not, May realized that he would not have been human not to do that. Everyone was going to look up when a helicopter flew that low overhead, and someone shouted that warning.

  And it gave her the chance she needed, the only chance she was going to get.

  For just one moment, he was distracted. He took his eyes off her.

  May flung herself sideways. But not away from him, not in the direction she'd been pulling, to try and fight the rope.

  She launched herself toward him and she kicked out with everything she had, knowing that this was her only chance to strike a blow that would unbalance him, and allow her to start fighting back. This moment, this instant in time, was the only chance she was going to have.

  She kicked out in rage and despair, with everything she had.

  The tip of her foot connected hard with his knee, and there was a satisfying thud as the sole of her shoe hit his flesh.

  And it was a lucky blow. A good kick. Glancing at the sky, he wasn't expecting it.

  It knocked Brian off his feet and he sprawled sideways on the ground with a surprised, angry shout. He let go of the pillow, scrabbling for purchase on the leafy ground.

  May fought the rope with everything she had, rolling sideways to try and loosen it, struggling for all she was worth, knowing that there was probably not going to be enough time to get free, but trying and fighting all the same.

  She'd done it. She'd gotten one of her hands free. Now, she was ready for him. She would take him on. Never mind that he was taller and stronger. With one hand to do it, she'd fight for her life, and she'd fight for Primrose’s life, too.

  May braced herself, ready for his attack, ready to grab his throat and try to claw his eyes out, to do whatever she could to get the advantage, not allowing herself to think of failure at all.

  With an angry roar, he turned to her.

  Come try, May thought.

  And then, from behind her, she heard the voice she'd longed to hear, but had never allowed herself to hope for.

  "Hands in the air! You are under arrest!"

  Brian whirled around to face Owen.

  For a moment, the air seemed to crackle with tension as Brian considered his options. For a moment, May realized he was thinking of running.

  But then, as if his demons wouldn’t allow it, as if the driving force that prodded him to kill was too strong, he lunged toward Primrose one more time with a snarl.

  “No!” May yanked her other hand free from the ties and scrambled to her feet, diving after him, grabbing his arm, even as Owen sprinted over to tackle the man.

  With a yell of fury, he sprawled on the ground. May gritted her teeth. She had soil in her hair, she was dirty, she was battered and bruised, but she wasn’t going to let go of his arm again.

  But Owen had him now. Brian kicked and plunged, but the tackle had been effective and now he was face-down in the dirt, with Owen dragging his other hand behind his back.

  The click of the handcuffs finally signaled that they had managed to subdue one of the most dangerous, tenacious killers they had ever chased down.

  With shaking hands, she helped Owen tie him to the tree so that he could not get away before backup arrived.

  “I called you,” Owen whispered, looking at her with all his feelings there, visible in his face as they pulled the rope tight around the tree. “I called you and when you didn’t answer, I got worried and rushed back.”

  “I’m so glad you did,” May whispered back in a heartfelt tone.

  Only when she was sure the knots were secure, did she return her focus to Primrose, picking up her knife from the ground and sawing carefully at those tight ropes.

  "It's going to be okay," she said in a soft voice, seeing at last that the fear had ebbed from the captive woman's eyes. "You're going to be fine. We've got him at last, and he's never going to harm another woman again."

  EPILOGUE

  It was just over twenty-four hours later, and May felt like she was in a completely different world.

 

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