by Cynthia Eden
She and Thomas had already confiscated all of the senator’s computer equipment. An initial search of the material hadn’t shed any additional light on the attack in D.C.—or on the senator’s death—but they had specialists back at the EOD who’d tear that equipment apart. If there was intel to find there, they would.
She went toward the window on the left. Looking down, she saw the slumping roof of what looked like an old shed behind the main house. About fifty yards back, right at the tree line.
The shed made her curious. “He replaced everything else.” No, not just replaced. He’d destroyed everything else on that property. “Why not that shed? Why is it still out there?”
Before Thomas could answer her, Noelle turned and hurried from the room. Sheriff Hodges glanced up when she rushed down the stairs. His hand was on Paula’s shoulder, as if he’d been comforting the woman. Paula’s eyes were watering, and her nose was red.
“I should have heard him. I should have helped him!”
Noelle didn’t slow to help console the other woman. She figured Hodges had things covered. She made her way to the back of the house and threw open the rear door. The icy air hit her, seeming to chill straight to her bones.
Thomas was behind her. Not speaking but following closely. When they got to the old shed, she saw a big wooden board had been positioned to block the entrance. She grabbed for the board, but Thomas was there, and he heaved it aside.
She pushed open the shed’s door. But it really wasn’t so much a shed. It reminded her more of an old barn.
The roof was high, there was no floor, just what looked like dirt and straw and—
A trunk sat, half-hidden beneath some old blankets, positioned against the far back wall. Her steps quickened as she approached it.
“Why are we out here, Noelle?” Thomas asked her.
“Because I need to understand Lawrence. He came back here to this exact spot to start his new life, for a reason.” She dropped to her knees and pushed aside the blankets that covered the trunk. Then she saw the padlock. The trunk was old and weathered from time, but the padlock was shiny. New.
“If the senator had something valuable, he wouldn’t leave it out here.” Thomas’s words were clipped. “That’s probably just some kind of equipment in there he used on his land. He didn’t want it stolen so—”
She’d spotted a hammer hanging on a nearby shelf. Noelle grabbed it and started pounding at the lock.
“Noelle! Hell, wait, we can get the sheriff to—”
The lock broke. Noelle shoved it aside. She wasn’t even sure what she’d expected to find but—
Photographs.
There were dozens of photographs inside the trunk. The old, Polaroid type. The white edges surrounded the images.
Her fingers were shaking when she reached for the first one. The light from her flashlight bobbed as she tried to focus in on that photo.
A photo of a young girl, a teen, blindfolded, tied to a chair.
A girl with red hair.
The print fell from her fingers, but then Noelle dove forward. Her light shined on all of those snapshots.
Red-haired girls. Teens. Bound. Blindfolded.
“Noelle!” Thomas’s fingers curled around her, and he yanked her to her feet.
But it was too late. Because she’d just found another photograph, only this photograph was familiar.
“That’s me,” she whispered as she stared down at her picture.
Like the other girls, she was blindfolded and tied to a chair.
That image... Dear God, had been taken fifteen years ago, during the two lost days of her life.
* * *
“THERE ARE TEN different girls in these pictures.” No emotion entered Noelle’s voice, and it was that complete lack of emotion that worried Thomas the most.
They were back at the sheriff’s station. It was long past midnight, and Noelle—she’d pinned all of the photos to the wall in their makeshift office. Those images had already been faxed to the EOD. But...
“Are you okay?”
She flinched at the question, and instead of answering, she said, “They’re all about the same age. Sixteen or seventeen, females, with red hair—”
His fingers curled around her shoulders and he turned her, forcing her to face him. “Are. You. Okay?”
Her pupils were too big. Her face too pale.
“We have to operate under the assumption the photos are—are trophies that Senator Lawrence kept close because he wanted to relive the abductions—”
“Noelle, you’re in the damn photo!”
Her gaze fell to his throat. He saw her swallow. “We always knew that a second man had to be involved in my abduction.” Her voice still had no emotion. “I was tied up, so I couldn’t have been the one to kill him. Someone else was there the whole time.” Slowly, her lashes lifted. “It’s possible Senator Lawrence was that someone.”
No, it wasn’t.
“This is the first lead I’ve ever had.” Her lower lip trembled, but she caught it between her teeth. After a moment, Noelle said, “This is my life, and the man who could’ve told me the truth is dead.”
Thomas wasn’t exactly mourning the guy.
She pulled in a deep breath. “The EOD is searching Missing Persons databases now, using image-recognition software, but this—this isn’t the usual type of case for Mercer’s team.”
No, it wasn’t.
“The FBI should be investigating, and Sheriff Hodges, he thinks he’s got the FBI.” She shook her head. “We have to call them in. The real FBI. If any of those girls are still alive—”
“Do you think they are?”
Because he was watching her so closely, Thomas saw her eyelids flicker.
No, she doesn’t.
“Tell me why killers keep trophies,” Thomas demanded. Because, yes, he knew exactly what those images were.
“To remind them of the crimes.”
“Cadaver dogs are on the way.” He’d been pulling some strings of his own while she worked to identify the victims. “There might be more than just photographs buried in that old shed.” There had been no floor there. Just earth...
A graveyard? Maybe. He’d be finding out soon.
“I got away.” Her voice was a thin whisper. “Maybe some of them did, too. If there’s another survivor, if we can find her, then we can figure out how the senator fits into all of this.”
Provided Mercer didn’t yank them off the case. Because Noelle had been right about the EOD not handling missing-persons cases, and with a potential serial killer involved— Hell, no, this wasn’t business as usual for them.
Thomas was used to facing terrorists, arms dealers, but this... This was beyond his realm.
But it was exactly where Noelle thrived.
She’d turned back to study the photographs. “He used a Polaroid so that he wouldn’t have to develop his film.” Her fingers hovered over the image of herself. “Technology wasn’t so advanced back then, he couldn’t just snap a picture with his phone, and he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know what he was doing.”
“It’s possible that all of those images are from at least fifteen years ago.”
She nodded. “But a killer like that, he wouldn’t just...stop.” Softer, she added, “He couldn’t. The compulsion to kill would be too strong.”
This whole situation wasn’t making sense to Thomas. “The guy was a senator. You don’t get much more of a high profile. He had guards, reporters, hell, nearly everyone dogging his steps. Wouldn’t someone have noticed if the guy was abducting girls?”
The image of Lawrence Duncan as a serial killer just wasn’t fitting for him.
“He was a hunter.” Noelle was still looking at the snapshots. “Maybe he just found something that he real
ly enjoyed hunting. Something...or someone.”
Thomas stiffened at her words as memories flooded through his mind. A forest. Darkness. A girl’s scream.
Damn it, he had to tell her. Mercer could fire him; Thomas didn’t care. The photographs changed everything. We always thought it was just her.
But it was now obvious Noelle hadn’t been the only victim.
“There’s something you need to know,” Thomas told her, aware his voice had come out a bit rough.
She didn’t glance his way.
“Noelle, look at me.”
Her body turned. Her gaze found his.
“You were right,” he said. He didn’t know how she was going to react, and in that moment, fear crouched beneath his skin. “We met before you came to work at the EOD.”
She stepped toward him as her brows rose. “When?”
“Years ago.” He exhaled once more. “It wasn’t for long, just an hour, maybe two.” Two hours that changed his life and hers.
“Thomas?”
“The first time I saw you...you were running, in the woods...”
Surprise flashed over face. “What are you talking about?”
“You screamed for me to help you.”
Her body trembled. The little bit of color in her face drained away. He lunged toward her, worried she might be about to pass out. He grabbed her, holding her tightly. “Noelle?”
Her hands twisted so that she was holding him, too. “Why are you saying this? Why are you—?”
The door behind Thomas flew open and crashed into the wall. “I need you two!” Sheriff Hodges yelled. “In the bull pen, now!”
That man had the worst timing in the world. Thomas threw a glare over his shoulder, and he didn’t care if the sheriff saw him basically embracing Noelle right then. “We’re busy. It’s just gonna have to wait—”
“The hell it is.” Red stained the sheriff’s cheeks as he pointed to the pictures on the wall. “I just got a report of a missing girl. A girl who looks just like those others pinned up there.”
Then Thomas heard it. The soft sound of...sobbing? Coming from outside the room.
“Jenny Tucker has been missing since around six this morning,” Hodges told them. “We don’t... Things like this don’t happen in Camden.”
Noelle shoved past the sheriff as she made her way to the door. “Yes, they do.”
She yanked open the door and hurried out of the office. Thomas spared a hard glance for the sheriff. Hodges appeared to have aged about ten years. The lines near his eyes and mouth were deeper, and the sheriff’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t... I don’t know what to do. I arrest a few drunks every now and then.” He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’ve got to help us, Agent Anthony. This isn’t what I do.”
It wasn’t what Thomas did, either. He was used to going right after a target and taking out his prey. Not playing a cat-and-mouse game with a serial killer.
He turned on his heel and followed after Noelle. She’d stopped beside a woman with short, red hair. The woman was huddled in a chair, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I—I thought she was working late.... I kept waiting for my Jenny to come h-home....” Her body shuddered. “It was... It was her first day. She was gonna work weekends at the diner.”
Noelle patted the woman’s shoulder.
“Sh-she never came home.”
The floor creaked behind Thomas.
“Jenny’s like the girls in all those pictures,” the sheriff said, his voice low and carrying only to Thomas’s ears. “Is she...is she already dead?”
“I don’t know.” His hands had fisted at his sides. “It’s too early to know anything. The girl could’ve run off with a boyfriend. She could be at a friend’s house. We can’t make any conclusions yet.” But his gut was tight, and he couldn’t help remembering another long-ago night. One that had been filled with the sound of screams...and the red of blood.
* * *
THE SMALL CABIN was perfect. Isolated. Secure.
He’d lit a lantern so he could see the girl. She was bound, blindfolded and shivering from the cold.
She hadn’t talked much. But then, with a gag in her mouth, talking wouldn’t be easy. When she’d woken up, she’d cried for her mother, but he’d stopped those cries easily enough with the gag.
He stared down at her. She was slumped in the chair. Just watching her brought back so many memories for him.
He’d been a different man back then.
Unfocused. So eager for the cries...
Everything had changed for him, though. In one night. With one kill.
Everything.
He couldn’t go back to being the same man. The spike of adrenaline in his blood—it just wasn’t the same with the girls any longer. He didn’t feel the rush. The thrill.
His hand tightened around the knife in his hand. There wasn’t any challenge with little Jenny. Once, there had been. No more.
He was used to bigger game now.
He turned from the girl. He needed to head into town for a while. Had Duncan’s body been found? He needed to make sure his bases were covered, and he needed to line up a new job. After he killed Jenny, he’d have to leave the area for good.
It was time to move on.
Camden was a wasteland. Ice and snow. Next time, he’d try someplace warmer.
Maybe he’d head back to Alabama. Or Florida. The memories there were so much damn better.
* * *
“WE HAVE TO call in the FBI.” Noelle turned toward Thomas as soon as he cut off the engine of their rental car. It was another SUV, which the sheriff had gotten for them. They were parked just a few feet away from the entrance of the only diner in Camden—the presumed spot of Jenny Tucker’s abduction. Noelle had known she had to get out here to investigate for herself, but that investigation just wasn’t going to be good enough.
Thomas frowned at her. “As far as the locals are concerned, we are the FBI.”
She shook her head. “The EOD doesn’t investigate abductions like this. You know that.”
Hostage retrieval. Unconventional warfare. Target destruction. She knew the key words for missions the EOD agents took. But this case...
My past.
It was different.
“Mercer will pull us off the investigation as soon as he finds out what’s happening. And we can’t just leave the girl out there. We have to call in the FBI.” She had friends at the FBI who should be working this case. If she put in just a fast call to them, those special agents would be on the first flight out there.
But does Jenny have that long?
“I figure that I’m staring at Jenny Tucker’s best hope of survival,” Thomas said flatly as his gaze held hers. “Mercer told me that you were the best profiler he’d ever seen. If anyone can catch the guy out there, I think it would be you.”
But Thomas didn’t get it. She shoved back the hair that had fallen over her forehead. “My mind... It’s all messed up.” Her voice thickened and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat as Thomas watched her with that deep, golden gaze. “Every time I try to think about Jenny or the man who took her, I just see my own picture, pinned to the wall at the station.”
Her past. The secrets she’d sought for so long—they were all tangled up in what was happening in Camden.
Her breath seemed to burn her lungs. “I don’t have the distance needed for this case. It’s too personal.” She couldn’t separate her own feelings from what was happening. Jenny... Jenny could be me. Only Noelle had gotten lucky. She’d been rescued.
Jenny hadn’t.
“I don’t think distance is what this case needs.” His words were a deep rumble as his finger slid over the steering wheel. “I think you’re what that girl out the
re needs. If she really was taken, then you know exactly what that is like.”
No, she didn’t. Because she couldn’t remember anything about her abduction.
He hesitated a moment as he studied her, then he slowly inclined his head. “But I’ll talk to the boss, if that’s what you want. We’ll get other FBI agents down here.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“But you need to stay on point. We both do. We can’t blow our cover, because I think this is about a whole lot more than one girl’s abduction. The senator was murdered, and we still need to figure out how he fits into this mess.”
Yes, they did.
Noelle turned from him and pushed against the handle of her door. His hand flew out, stopping her before she could leave the vehicle. “You’re not alone in this, understand? Whatever happens, whatever we discover, I’m going to be right by your side.”
She nodded. “Because you’re my partner.” She’d learned that about the EOD. A partner always had your back. A partner would protect you to the bitter end, a partner would—
“No, that’s not why.” His fingers lifted and curled around her chin. That golden gaze of his heated even more. She saw the need in his eyes. Her heart raced faster. “You can count on me.”
She had to look away from that deep stare because Noelle was afraid Thomas would see too much in her own eyes. She’d been alone for so long. But he was offering her something else. Something she was afraid to take.
She pushed open her car door and the cold air rushed against her skin. The lights from the diner were on, glowing brightly even though it was close to ten o’clock.
Noelle stared at the area around the diner. A few old buildings, which were boarded up. A lone road, which stretched away and disappeared into the darkness.
Camden wasn’t a thriving town, she had read during her pretrip research. It had lost most of its residents as the younger generation moved off to bigger cities. Because the businesses were vanishing and the people were leaving, there just hadn’t been anyone out there to see Jenny.
Before they’d left the station, the sheriff had checked in with all of Jenny’s friends. No one had seen the girl, and the friends had all claimed Jenny had no boyfriend. They’d been adamant she couldn’t have run off with someone.