Page 116

“Vehicle still eastbound,” Sheriff Tate said. “Speed approximately eighty.”

Mace pressed harder on the accelerator.

“Tell him we’re two minutes behind,” I said.

Mace picked up the radio.

“Tate, Judy, and I are behind you.”

Sheriff Tate answered immediately.

“Keep your eyes on the truck.”

“I’d like to, but it just turned off River Road.”

“Where?”

“Old Mill Road.”

Mace’s expression changed.

“You know it?” I asked.

I’ve been here one day before you. So I don’t know the back roads. But I did study the map before Max, and I got here. I think that’s the road that runs along the river.

“Did you notice any other roads out there?”

“One.”

“Where does it go?”

“The old summer camp.”

The same camp where Emily Ross had disappeared.

The same camp where nine girls had gathered around a bonfire.

Eight were dead.

One remained.

“He’s taking us to the camp,” I said.

“Or he wants us to think he is.”

Mace turned onto Old Mill Road.

The pavement disappeared beneath us. Gravel struck the bottom of the truck as we sped between the trees.

The sheriff’s lights flashed ahead.

Then they stopped moving.

Mace slowed.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”