“Horses? I thought we were in a residential neighborhood.”
“From the looks of it, we’re on a ranch which spans several acres. Park City, Heber, Spanish Fork. It’s hard to say where we are.”
“Did you see anything else?”
“Nothing significant.”
“Hey,” Elaina said.
“How are you doing?” Maddie asked.
“How am I doing?” Elaina drove her fist into the drywall, creating a hollow, round hole. “Can someone tell me what’s going on and why we’re here?”
Unlike Rebecca’s scaredy-cat attitude, Elaina’s rage might prove useful when the time was right, giving Maddie a sliver of hope. “We’re still trying to figure it out. Rebecca’s been here for two days. I’ve been here for one. Whatever Sharon’s motives are for taking us, this was all premeditated. I’m sure of it now. It would help if you told us what happened to you.”
“Yeah, sure. Just give me a minute to calm down.” Elaina did a series of breathing exercises before speaking again. “I was leaving yoga class. I walked across the street to my car. A woman pulled up next to me and said she had just moved here. She asked if I could give her directions to the outlet mall.”
“A similar thing happened to me,” Rebecca said.
“Go on,” Maddie said.
“I told her where to go, and she thanked me. I turned to get into my car, and she smothered my face from behind. I remember her telling me to breathe, which was the opposite of what I was trying to do. She said it would all be over in a minute. I woke up somewhere along the drive in the passenger seat of her car, while she was driving me here. She said everything was going to be all right. I mean, I think that’s what she said. I was too drugged up to know for sure.”
The abductions of Rebecca and Elaina had been similar. But Maddie’s was different, causing her to wonder if Sharon had been stalking her the night before, waiting to approach when the date was over, her plans thwarted when Brandon followed her out to her car.
“Did you notice anything while you were inside Sharon’s car—where she was headed, or any personal effects?”
She shook her head. “It’s all a blur. I can’t detach what was real from what wasn’t. The last thing I remember is seeing a needle sticking out of her pocket. I assume she stuck me with it.”
“I’ve been thinking about what she’s been drugging us with, and based on our reactions to it, I believe she’s using ketamine.”
“What is it?” Elaina asked, “And what does it do?”
“It’s a sedative. It induces a trance-like state. It causes fatigue and out-of-body experiences, causing us to hallucinate. She employs a two-part process—first knocking us out with chloroform, but since chloroform doesn’t last long, she injects us with ketamine for a longer effect, probably so she could get us here without us resisting.”
“How long does it last?”
“It takes around five minutes to work and lasts a half hour to an hour. It all depends on the dose she gave us.”
“She doesn’t look like a woman who uses drugs,” Elaina said.
“You’d be surprised these days. Truth is, she didn’t need to get it from a dealer. I’d guess she works somewhere where she has access to it, like a hospital or a veterinary clinic. When she entered the room earlier, she looked professional. She was wearing a skirt, like she had been at work.”
“You think she’s a doctor of some kind?” Elaina asked.
“A doctor seems like a stretch. She might be a receptionist or a nurse.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Rebecca said. “It doesn’t matter what we’re being drugged with or who Sharon is. Not really. We’re never leaving here, are we?”
“If you want to give up, give up,” Maddie said. “I never will. Look, we’re not alone here. Some of the smartest people I know are looking for us. I have a friend. Her name is Sloane, and she’s a private investigator. She knows I’m missing, and she probably knows you’re missing too. If anyone can find us, she can.”
Morning arrived, or it seemed like morning, at least. For all Maddie knew, it was afternoon. She wasn’t sure. The lack of nutrients had left her feeling lethargic, in an altered state, the minutes and hours blurring together.
An aroma of cherry pie wafted through the room, and her stomach groaned.
From the opposite side of the door, Sharon said, “I want the three of you to stand against the far wall. No funny business, got it?”
The women stood, and Maddie nodded at Elaina. Their plan was to present a distraction. Then they’d find a way out.
“Are you all against the wall?” Sharon asked.
“Yes,” Maddie replied.
Sharon entered the room, gun in hand. She gazed at the women and then smiled, wiping a piece of cherry filling off her face. “Mmm...mmm! You three don’t know what you just missed out on.”
“We’re starving,” Rebecca said.
“I imagine you are. Who needs to go to the bathroom?”
Rebecca raised a hand.
“Anyone else?” Sharon asked.
“What was in the syringe you stuck us with when you abducted us?” Maddie asked.
“Abducted is such a harsh word. I prefer to think of it as me needing the three of you for a short time. It just sounds better.”
“It doesn’t sound better. It makes you feel better.”
“You want to know what I used in the syringe, right? You’re the brains in this bunch, Madison. What’s your best guess?”
“Ketamine.”
“Smart girl.”
“Where did you get it?”
It was a question Maddie assumed she wouldn’t receive an answer to, but today Sharon was in a chattier mood. It didn’t hurt to try.
“Let’s just say I have access to it. I’ll call it a perk of my job.”
“Your hospital job?”
Sharon gave Maddie a long, hard stare, then said, “Rebecca, let’s go.”
Rebecca eyeballed Sharon’s gun like she wondered if Sharon had an alternative agenda to the one she presented. “You know what, I don’t need to go that bad. I’ll wait.”
“You just said you did, so stop messing around. Let’s go.”
Rebecca refused to move.
“Well, there’s a surprise,” Sharon said. “The girl who’s afraid of her own shadow finally takes a stand. What do you think will happen? You think I’ll shoot you again?”
Attention centered on Rebecca, Maddie lunged at Sharon, hands grappling for the gun. Sharon anticipated the move. A needle seemed to appear from out of nowhere. Sharon drove it into Maddie’s arm, and then jerked another out of her pocket. As Elaina charged forward, Sharon threatened she was next if she didn’t stay back.
Injection complete, Maddie’s mind drifted into an altered state of consciousness, as Sharon’s words echoed through the room. “No need to worry, ladies. Your unfortunate nightmare will all be over soon.”
Coop, Nick, and I sat around Gran’s table, mulling over what to do next. No matter what leads we followed, we had nothing but failed leads and dead ends to show for our efforts, and my mind took me to places I didn’t want it to go. Dark, uncomfortable places where I would find Maddie, but too late.
Gran did what she did best in times like these—she cooked comfort food, whipping up a midday pot roast complete with mashed potatoes, carrots, and rolls made from scratch. Resting on the table were photos of Maddie, Rebecca, and Elaina. Although different, the women shared subtle similarities in hair color and body type.
Coop hunched over the photos, pushing Rebecca and Elaina’s together. “Let’s start with these two. What do they have in common with each other, and what do those similarities have in common with Madison?”
“Blond hair, similar build and social class,” I said.
“And what’s different?”
“Elaina and Rebecca have both been married before,” I said. “They have kids. Maddie doesn’t. Elaina is in her thirties. Rebecca and Maddie are about te
n years older.”
“I think we should focus less on the victims and more on the perpetrator,” Nick said. “Assuming we’re looking for a woman, we need to profile her based on what we know about female killers.”
Coop leaned back in the chair. “Since none of the women have turned up dead yet, we don’t know if the woman’s a killer or not, but all right, let’s go over the statistics anyway.”
Nick nodded. “Fifteen percent of female murderers are women. Females tend to murder just one person as opposed to several. Most work alone, fly under the radar, and have no criminal record. They tend to kill out of emotion, often times knowing their victims—a husband, boyfriend, child.”
“Yes,” I said, “but they’re just as prone to killing other women as they are men.”
Coop looked at Nick. “Go on.”
“They’re generally middle-class, come from a religious background, and work at a job where they care for others—a doctor, a nurse, a teacher, that kind of thing.”
“Since we’re talking demographics, here’s a bit of trivia,” Coop said. “In the past two hundred years, how many females have committed murder?”
Nick shrugged.
“Sloane,” Coop said, “what about you? Care to wager a guess?”
“I have no idea.”
“Less than seventy, which is why they’re more predictable. The murder often comes down to a crime of passion, and more often than not, there’s a primary motive. So what’s the motive? Why would a woman take other women?”
He seemed to be asking a question he already knew the answer to—testing me—perhaps trying to teach me a lesson about how much more he knew than I did. Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe the lack of sleep had heightened my sensitivity.
I picked up the photos of Rebecca and Elaina, studying each. “These women look different, but they’re both attractive. So is Maddie. And while they’ve been in relationships in the past, they haven’t remarried. From what we know, Elaina is single, and Rebecca’s mother said Rebecca has been dating a guy from another state, but she doesn’t think they’re serious.”
“What are you thinking?” Nick asked.
“I’m thinking like a woman.”
“Meaning?”
“Jealousy is a damn good motive.”
“Jealousy is a woman’s second nature,” Coop said. “It almost never turns to murder.”
“It’s like you said before. For all we know, they’re not dead yet.”
“Yet,” Coop said. “Let’s say there’s merit to what you’re saying, and I’m not saying there is—we have yet to find the distinct correlation between all three women. Out of curiosity though, what are you getting at?”
Gran handed me a glass of water. I took a sip and set the glass down on the table. “Even if Rebecca is in a relationship, we don’t know how serious it is. What if they’ve all dated the same guy?”
“So you think all three women may have dated the same guy?” Coop asked. “The only guy Maddie went out with is Brandon. I talked to his ex-wife yesterday. Unless she’s the most skilled liar I’ve ever questioned, she couldn’t care less what Brandon does or with whom.”
“I’m not talking about Brandon,” I said. “Maddie doesn’t date a lot, but Brandon isn’t the only guy she has gone out with lately.”
Coop raised a brow. “A few weeks ago she told me she wasn’t dating, so I was shocked to hear about this Brandon fellow.”
“Maddie’s idea of dating is a guy she is seeing consistently.”
“As opposed to ...”
I had no desire to finish the statement, but it had to be done. “As opposed to a one-night stand.”
Given Coop’s strong opinion on moral decency, I expected a heated reaction, but for once, he kept his opinions to himself. “Where does she meet the men?”
“Though a dating app on her phone called Spark.”
“Stupid name,” Coop said. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“You looked through her phone records, and she hasn’t called or texted a guy she’s dated in a long time. Rebecca and Elaina have, but they’re talking to different guys. None of the phone numbers matched up. I didn’t consider it a logical motive until now.”
“Explain how it’s possible they’re all linked to the same guy.”
“Maddie told me she could text men through the dating app itself. I guess it’s a safety feature so men and women don’t have to give out their personal information. We need to find out if the other two women are using the same app. Then we can see if they matched with any of the same guys Maddie did. Find the guy, maybe we find the woman behind the man.”
“What do you mean matched the same guy?”
I scooted my chair next to his. “Dating is a lot different than it used to be. I’ve never been on the site, but I think I understand how it works. Here, I’ll show you.”
I downloaded the app, added my information, and took him though the basics of swiping on potential matches, which was as simple as looking at photos of potential matches and swiping right on the ones I was hypothetically interested in.
“Women actually like dating this way?” he asked. “It seems so impersonal, like a digital meat market.”
“The good news is, Maddie only signed up for the site about a month ago. She accepted two dates, and the first guy never showed up.”
“What about the second? She give you his name?”
“She did, and I can’t remember. Matt or Mark, maybe. You only give first names on the site, so we’d have to get a last name too. I don’t know how hard it will be to gain access to her profile, the other women’s profiles if they have one, or how long it takes.”
Coop looked at Nick.
Nick scooted his chair back and stood. “I’m on it.”
“What do you know about the date she had with this guy from Spark?”
“They went out a few weeks ago. She said he was nice, but she didn’t plan on seeing him again. That’s the other reason I didn’t think to mention it. She only saw him once, and neither one of them contacted each other again.”
He raised a brow. “Did they ... was the date overnight?”
“It wasn’t, but to answer the question you’re asking, yes, they had sex.”
The Spark website had no business number, only an email address. Nick sent a message and then did some digging, finally stumbling upon a number for customer service. The call was answered by a man who spoke broken English, didn’t understand Nick’s questions, and kept asking how long his sister had been missing. After several attempts to communicate and two call transfers, he was told what documentation he needed to provide before they released any information. Concerned about how long the process would take, Coop decided to call in a favor from an old FBI buddy, who he hoped could help.
No one knew whether Rebecca had tried online dating, but Coop met with Elaina’s sister Joanie, and she confirmed Elaina had met a couple of men through Spark. Joanie even took it a step further, stating a month earlier Elaina had shown her the condo where she had gone after one of her dates—a date with a guy named Matt.
While Coop talked to his friend from the FBI, he sent Nick to check out the address Joanie had given him, “allowing” me to tag along. The two of us drove to Donner House, a historical turn-of-the-century Victorian that had been converted into four renovated condos.
We parked, and Nick pointed to the top left unit. “That’s the one we need to look at. The warrant hasn’t come through yet. Coop said to wait until he gives me the go ahead.”
“Are we really going to sit here waiting for permission?” I asked.
“My hands are tied, Sloane,” he said. “You know how it works.”
“Your hands are tied. Mine aren’t.”
I opened the car door and started to get out.
“Sloane, don’t do this,” Nick said.
“Just hear me out. I’ll go in so you don’t take the heat. If I get caught, I’ll take the blame for everything.”
“Y
ou’re stupid, you know? For years you’ve said all you wanted was to be included, for Coop to treat you like what you do is no different than what we do. He gave you a little rope this time, probably because it’s Maddie, but still, you got your chance. And now you’re going to blow it.”
“I understand.”
He ran a hand along his forehead and opened his door. “Five minutes. If no one is home, get in, look around, and get out. I’ll stand outside the door and keep an eye on things. If I can keep this to myself, I will. No guarantees.”
It was enough for me. I bolted out of the car and headed for the condo.
I knocked. No one answered. Using a credit card, I jimmied the door open and crept inside, whispering to Nick, “There’s no one here.”
“Good, now hurry up.”
The condo was small, a studio with a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom doubling as a living room. I opened every drawer, cabinet, and closet. Aside from a sofa, a king-sized bed, a large TV, and a couple chairs, there was no wall décor, and no food in the fridge or pantry. The only exception was a wine rack stocked with over twenty bottles.
What some would view as a waste of time provided me an important clue—it wasn’t the owner’s primary residence.
Nick opened the front door, stepped inside. “Find anything? We gotta go.”
“I’ve only been looking around for a few minutes.”
“Coop just called. He has the information we need from the dating site. You were right. All three women are members of Spark, and only two men matched all three.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “One of them is named Matt.”
Maddie blinked once and then a second time, trying to clear her blurred vision, to focus on the buzzing going on around her. Sounds faded in and out, words blending like music, except it wasn’t the melodic tune of a song. It was voices—voices swimming all around her. She gazed up, watching the ceiling open and close like the room could swallow her whole.
She didn’t want to be here.
She wanted to go home.
Home.
It had never sounded as good as it did now.
Deadly Sins: Wrath Page 4