“No.” Seth turned toward Greg. “We need somebody on traffic cams. Do we have anybody?”
Greg winced. “Not in the pack. We’ve stayed away from technology, which was obviously a huge-ass mistake.”
“Obviously,” Seth muttered. He hated to do it, but he might have to work with the FBI and tell them that Mia had been taken—if they didn’t already know. From the sound of it, Lionel was down and out. “Anything on the police reports?”
“Just that Lionel was shot. There’s been no record of Mia or Claire so far. It sounded like it happened so quickly, most people didn’t even see anything and were focused on Lionel, who was downed and bleeding,” Greg noted.
“Somebody must have seen something,” Seth huffed. “All right. Everybody in human clothing now and canvass that building. In fact, canvass the entire block. I don’t care if you impersonate the feds. I don’t care if you have to threaten people, but somebody saw something, and I want to know what it is.”
“What are you going to do?” Greg asked.
Seth sighed. “I’m going to have to call the FBI. Damn it.”
Chapter35
Mia slowly came to, noting that her neck felt like she’d been hit with a bucket of sharp nails. She blinked, groaning.
“Well, hello there,” a familiar voice murmured.
All of a sudden, the sound of the bullets, and the sight of Lionel dropping and Claire falling shot through Mia’s mind. She jerked awake and then groaned as her entire body protested. “What the hell?” She forced her eyelids open.
“There you are. I hit you with three darts and thought it might be too many.” Rodney Newcomb sat across from her in what looked like a frayed green and blue lawn chair.
Her mind felt fuzzy. “Rodney?” She started to move and realized she was restrained. She looked down to see another battered lawn chair, but this one was purple with pink accents.
“What’s going on?” she slurred, her voice echoing off the walls.
“What’s going on is I finally got you,” Rodney said cheerfully, his smile too wide and his eyes too bright. There was an odd glint in them.
Awareness finally shook through her body. She jerked on the bonds again, looking down to see her wrists attached to shackles that had been imbedded in the cement floor.
For now, it appeared as if her legs were free. Even if she kicked the chair out of the way, she couldn’t move far. She pulled on the chains, but they didn’t give. The walls were cement, as was the floor, and there were no windows. “Where are we?” The world kept spinning.
“Somewhere we’ll never be found.” He watched her, his head tilted to the side as if he were absolutely fascinated.
They sat facing each other. What did that mean? She tried to catalog what she remembered from different profiles, even though whatever drugs he’d injected her with slowed her neural processes far too much. Then her gaze caught on what looked like a steel slab table behind him—like the ones found in a morgue. Her stomach dropped. Instruments of torture were laid neatly on a tray nearby, and one appeared to be a drill. There was also an icepick and a screwdriver, as well as several different-sized knives. A radio, circa 1970, sat silent on an adjacent tray.
“So, itwasyou,” she mumbled. “You were working with Delaney.” She knew it. Knew that Delaney had a partner, and it made sense it was Rodney, even though he appeared to have alibis.
Rodney threw back his head and laughed, the sound loud and obnoxious in the small space. “Everything I ever wanted to learn, I learned from that sociopathic bastard. I still can’t believe you shot him. I owe you some pain for that alone.”
She gulped, finally feeling the chill in the air. She looked down to see her jeans and white shell dotted with blood. Was it Claire’s, or was it Lionel’s? She shook her head, trying to focus even more. Right now, she had to escape and find her friends. Her stomach lurched again as she thought about the baby. “What kind of drugs were in those darts?”
“Does it matter? You’re just lucky I used darts and not bullets with you—unlike your friends.”
While Claire had a good chance of surviving being shot, Lionel was only human. Mia fought back a sob. He had to be okay. “Why are you sitting here talking to me?” she snapped. “Shouldn’t you be off planning your next kidnapping?”
“Oh, no, Agent Stone,” Rodney said, his hair ruffled as if he’d been running his hands through it. “I’ve been waiting for you. We’re going to spend a lot of time together.” He winked. “I can’t wait.”
Mia had no idea how far they had traveled or how long she’d been out. Water dripped somewhere in the background, and she tried to listen for any sounds outside the room. There might be a muffled rain, but the drip, drip, drip was farther back in the underground room. The air was dank and stale, and her feet were freezing. She looked down, noting that her shoes and socks had been removed. “You took my shoes?”
Rodney laughed again. “Yeah, I have a thing for feet. Delaney didn’t, but I don’t think he appreciated women like I do.”
“Oh, you appreciate them, do you?” She pushed against the back of the chair, and it creaked in protest. Her weapon was gone. She looked around but didn’t see it. The last three kills were so close to her hometown. It didn’t make sense. “How did you fly to Seattle and we didn’t catch it?” Not that anybody had looked too closely.
Rodney shrugged. “I have a fake ID, and believe it or not, it was easier than you would think to fly with it. I’ve been all over since Delaney died, and nobody knew. Even my waitresses thought I was in town when I wasn’t. It was just a matter of leaving notes at work and messages on phones. Chicks are stupid.”
“So, your trip to Nebraska?” she slurred. She had thought her mind was getting clearer, but the room began to sway again.
