“Good. Put him on speaker. Right now. I want both of you. I know who did this.” It was crazy. How had she missed it?
York groaned. “Fine, but be quick. When his rep gets here, I’m hanging up.”
Excitement and fear roared through Laurel. “Huck?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Huck said, sounding pissed.
Aeneas barked.
“You’ve got my dog?” Huck asked.
“Yes. He’s a good dog and he likes everyone. Except who?” Laurel pressed on the gas pedal and drove past the entrance to the subdivision. “Who hasn’t he liked lately?”
Huck was quiet.
“What does this have to do with anything?” Sheriff York grunted.
“Huck? Tell me. Who didn’t Aeneas like?” Laurel pushed.
The shifting of a chair echoed over the line. “Dr. Caine. He didn’t like her,” Huck said.
Through the phone line something slammed on a hard surface like a hand on a table. “You’re telling me that Dr. Caine is the killer? She doesn’t come close to fitting your profile,” York yelled.
“No,” Laurel said, speeding up. “Don’t you see? It’s so clear now. Huck? When Abigail was in your office, if she pulled out a couple of tufts, would Aeneas have bitten her?”
“Probably not,” Huck said. “Not in the office where he was technically at work. But he sure wouldn’t have been nice to her.”
Laurel nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly right. I can’t believe I missed it before. The blondes and the personal interest in me—it all makes sense. Can you get out of there?”
“I’m on the way,” Huck said.
“Hurry, Huck,” Laurel said. “Hurry. We have to find Kate. Please hurry.” A flash of white caught her eye and then heavy metal slammed into the side of her truck. She screamed, grabbing the wheel, trying to hold on.
Aeneas barked wildly.
Huck yelled her name.
She slid off the road and the truck tipped over, rolling several times before smashing against a tree. Her ears rang as she hung there, upside down, held in place by her seatbelt. Aeneas whined, blood on his nose. Where was she? She couldn’t hear anything. What had happened? Pain slid through the numbness in her face.
Her door opened and a man crouched down. He had dark hair, blue eyes, and a beard. It took her a second to recognize him with the blood dripping into her eyes. “Robert Caine,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Well, hello there, sister. I’ve been trying to get your attention for days now. It looks like we’re gonna do this my way now.”
Chapter Forty
Laurel tried to focus as Robert turned the stolen truck, the one carrying bullet holes from her gun, between two trees off the river road. He’d bound her hands and secured her with the seatbelt, and she kept fading in and out of consciousness. She shook her head and winced at the pain. “You left the dog in the cold.”
He chuckled. “You’re worried about a dog right now? Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of genius?” He pulled onto the shoulder, stopped the truck, cut the engine, and turned to face her, a glittering light in his blue eyes. “I’d take you to my house so we could spend some time together, but I can’t be sure who was on that phone call. Plus, my wife is there, although she sleeps like the dead.” Regret twisted his lips. “We’re not going to have the time I’d hoped for together. I’m sorry about that.”
She looked around the quiet area. Snow-covered trees lined the small road that ran by the river. “We’re still on your property?”
“No. We’re actually on federal land so there’s no tie to me.” He rubbed his beard. There was a black pistol tucked at his waist, but he didn’t seem inclined to grab for it yet. “Sure, it’s just a couple of miles from my place, but most people don’t even know this road is here. It’s more of a trail, really. You can’t even see it from my home, which is handy, just in case the authorities show up. I’m at church right now, you know.”
She tested the ropes at her wrists as her brain finally caught up. The pain ebbed. The world cleared and she took a deep breath, exhaling her pain. “It’s funny. You never gave yourself away. In fact, you were barely on my radar.”
“I know.” He licked his thumb and reached out to smooth blood away from her cheek. “I never should have listened to my sister. I’m a good guy. I go to church, help the community, and assist my brilliant sister with her marijuana company. My wife is a sweetheart with a heart of gold, and nobody would ever think I have the hobby I do.” His grin showed sharp canines. “The women who died, my little birds, were dirty and bad. Every single one of them.”
“Like your mother?” Laurel asked, taking a guess as she twisted to face him. If she could get her feet up between them, she could at least gain some leverage.
