Page 80 of Four Cards Exposed

“Who?” James asked. Something twisted inside of him. He knew, better than most, that the majority of crimes were perpetrated by someone the victim knew well.

Tears filled James’s eyes, and he wiped them away angrily, glad Natalie couldn’t see him over the phone.

Stay calm.

Stay strong.

Find out what happened.

Get Susan back.

“She had one more beer after I left, sitting with Adrian Walsh, Jack and Alex Miller, and Michael Bell. They all left shortly before midnight. I heard Michael offered to walk her home, but Susan didn’t want him to.” Natalie’s voice cracked. “She lives only five minutes away from the bar. I didn’t … I never …”

James heard the pain, but he didn’t have the energy to console the sheriff.

“That last name you mentioned doesn’t sound familiar. Who is he?”

“Officer Bell is the newest officer in our department. He joined just recently.”

James committed the name to memory.

“Do we know she made it home?”

“We don’t know anything for sure, from the moment she left the bar. But her door was found ajar. Someone unlocked it.” Natalie spoke to somebody else. “I’m at the house now. I need to hang up.”

“I’m on my way,” James said. “Natalie …”

He couldn’t finish the sentence—didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say.

“I know, James. I know.”

James didn’t immediately restart the car after hanging up the call. It was an out-of-body experience, in a way. He could see his body. He could smell the remains of vomit on his lips. He could see his hands shaking on the steering wheel, the knuckles still raw and bruised.

It felt like he was looking at somebody else, except for the pain. That was all his. James had never—in his entire life—felt pain like this. An agony that sat on his lungs, pressing hard enough that air couldn’t get inside. His vision closed in, leaving only a narrow tunnel of light.

He whimpered—a sad, pathetic sound.

For a man who had always valued control over everything else, this felt like a complete loss of self.

He wanted to shout. He wanted to hit something. Anything to distract himself from this … grief.

Except this wasn’t the time for grief. There would be plenty of time for that if—

James forced a shuddering breath into his body.

Then another, his lungs expanding slowly, like they were unused to the effort.

Focus on breathing.

Words he’d told other people countless times.

Process and procedure would get Susan back home. He had to wrestle back control.

Control.

Stay in control.

Hands still shaking, he dialed a number he knew off by heart.