“And what’s my job?” she said.
“It’s best you stay here, where you’ll be safe until all this is over.”
Katie nodded. She knew that would be the most likely outcome, but she still fumed and had to do so quietly. She needed to come up with a plan.
“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it has to be this way.”
“Of course.”
“You okay?”
“I will be.”
“I can have a patrol cruiser on your street.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Well, I’ll have patrol come by your house on a regular basis.”
“If you must.”
John came back into the living room. “I have to go back to the lab for a while. Will you be okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
McGaven gave John a look that could be only described asyou better be back soon.
Katie stood up. “I’m fine. I’ll be here.”
McGaven hugged his partner. John kissed her cheek. Soon they all had left.
The house became quiet as she stayed seated on the sofa.Katie closed her eyes and imagined the homecoming of her uncle. The happiness. The closure. When things came back to normal and life was comfortable and happy once again. She pretended that meeting would happen soon and there would be little memory of how vulnerable and helpless she felt now.
She took a deep breath. It would be a couple of hours at least until John came back. She had time to get ready. She was going to prepare for anything and everything. She was readying herself for a battle and she was going to win the war once and for all.
FIFTY-TWO
Wednesday 2100 hours
Sheriff Wayne Scott had never been in the military, but he had dreamed and planned on becoming a police officer his entire life. It was a calling. There were no other members of his family that had been in law enforcement—until Katie.
He was groggy and his mind was playing his early past life to the present over and over, through his accomplishments as well as his losses. Losing his sister and brother-in-law was a brutal blow, but raising Katie was the best experience of his life. Losing his wife to murder had broken his heart, and it wasn’t until he recently met Sydney that he’d realized he was in a place where he could love someone again. Now she was dead. The grief began again.
Pain shot down his arm and he felt something around his neck. His arms and legs wouldn’t move. At first, he thought it was a dream, a bad one, but he forced his eyes open. It was dark around him except for the illumination coming from a small oil lamp. His eyes were blurry, but he could see that the room wassmall, perhaps a cabin; there were no furnishings except for a beaten-down sofa and some blankets. It smelled of bacon grease and had a musty overall stench. He knew he had never been there before and tried to visualize where it was located.
The sheriff had been outside at Katie’s, about ready to get into his truck, when he was struck from behind. He remembered voices, two men, and then things were hazy, coming in and out like a shortwave radio. He thought he’d heard Cisco barking but wasn’t sure. He felt his body being dragged into a vehicle. His hands and ankles were secured and a cloth bag was put over his head. Then he had passed out again.
Sheriff Scott couldn’t move his head and realized that he was secured against something. A little more strength infused his body and he tried to maneuver his arms. There was a strange numbness he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He realized they too were attached to something. The harder he tried to move, the more pain shot down his arm. His head pounded and he assumed that there must’ve been something on the inside of the burlap bag over his head and he was feeling the aftereffects of some type of drug.
He wondered if this was somehow part of Katie and McGaven’s investigation, but couldn’t figure out why. He knew they were running down every lead and seemed to be coming to the end—it was only going to be a matter of time before they caught Griffin Jr. and the cases would slowly be wrapped up.
Scott coughed, making his head throb more. He was extremely thirsty. Using just his eyes and looking from the extreme left to the far right without moving his head was difficult and tedious. He could tell the front door wasn’t locked and there was a pair of military boots set to the side. Otherwise, there were no clues or indication of where he was, who lived there, and most importantly,whyhe was there.
He knew the department and most likely Katiehad figured out he was missing. Katie, he thought. He worried she might be a kidnap victim as well. The sheriff had faith in his colleagues and knew they would be doing everything they could to find him. Keeping those thoughts, he fought the drowsiness with his remaining strength, but he couldn’t stay awake. He closed his eyes.
FIFTY-THREE
Wednesday 2230 hours
