That was an excellent point. Especially on the freezing banks of both rivers, if the victims’ hands were bound for some time. Even if their hands had been freed, it would have been difficult for either of them to find purchase with arms or elbows or hands to shove themselves back up, particularly if somebody had pushed their heads beneath the ice.
“Thank you for your dedicated work. I appreciate it,” Laurel said.
“Any time. I hope you catch this guy before I get another body. Good night, Agent Snow.” He ended the call.
Another body? So did she. The wind howled against the windows, and she shivered. Was Jason Abbott this killer? Or did she have two monsters out there?
Chapter 17
Val Vuittron could not make the bank shot. Frustration made her hands shake as she tried again and missed.
“It’s okay.” Her pal Lonni slapped her on the back. “Take a deep breath. This is just open gym, dude.”
Val looked at her friend. “Did you just call me dude?”
Lonni grinned, showing new blue rubber bands in her braces. She had curly black hair and sparkling brown eyes. Her skin was a deep brown with peach highlights, and she was an excellent point guard. “Yes. Relax. We’re just goofing off. We have a lot of time until the spring tournaments.”
“Yeah, but I want to win this year.” They played three-on-three in the street, and last year she’d nearly broken her ankle. Her mom had freaked and made her wear a brace for the rest of the tournament. Sometimes it seemed like her mom working with Laurel and the FBI calmed her, and other times, Kate had to triple-check the locks on the doors before going to sleep.
Lonni tossed the ball and hit the backboard, making a basket. “We will, but part of this game is having fun.”
“Are you a philosopher now?” Val snorted. “I need some water. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll just keep hitting threes,” Lonni said cheerfully.
Val chuckled and wove through the other girls practicing. They’d set up a game, four against four, later, but right now they were just goofing off. She enjoyed open gym, and she liked having found a game that neither her older nor younger sister played.
Plus, she loved postponing homework. Anything that would put off studying for the physics test she had on Monday, which she’d have to do the second she got home. At least she had all day tomorrow to figure out how to solve projectile motion problems.
She moved out of the gym to the darkened hallway and reached the water fountain, taking several big drinks, careful not to put her mouth on the metal. She’d forgotten her water bottle again, probably in the back of her mom’s car.
“Hey there, can you help me? I’ve lost my dog,” a man said.
She yelped and turned to look at him. “Excuse me?”
Empty and chilly, the hallway felt dark, although the gym was close by. She glanced toward the brighter lights and measured the distance.
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry, but I saw some girls leave the door open a few minutes ago. My dog ran inside the school. I have no idea where I am. I’ve never been in here.”
“Oh,” she said. Lost dog. It could happen. She squinted to see him in the barely there light. The guy was good looking. He was about six feet tall, cleanly shaven, and had sparkling eyes. A battered ball cap covered shorter dark hair. In his hands, he held a leash. But it was a little after dinnertime on a Saturday night, so was it odd that he was out with his dog? She wasn’t sure.
“I just let him off leash for a minute,” the guy said. “I’m sorry to bug you.” He looked toward the gym. “I know you’re busy. Just point me toward the best place to look.”
She glanced down the hallway. “I’d look in the cafeteria. If you go down and take a right, you should be able to reach it.” Dogs could probably smell old chicken casserole and burgers, which had been the offerings that week.
“Thanks.”
She frowned. Weren’t most of the outdoor doors locked? It was possible somebody had left the door a little bit ajar. She’d seen it happen before. But she also imagined most of her friends would stop a dog or at least chase him if they saw him enter. She edged toward the gym.
“I’m sorry.” The guy held both hands up and backed away. “I didn’t mean to scare you. This is weird.”
“No, it’s not weird.” She felt stupid. “Not if you’re really looking for your dog.”
He was hot, his tight body dressed in a light black coat and jeans. He had to be in his, what, early twenties? She might only be fourteen, but she recognized a hottie when she saw one.
He pushed the cap further up his head. “I’ll let you get back to it,” he said. “I’m sorry about this.”
“No, really. I didn’t mean to . . .”
