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  With a quick look in the backseat, Jack declared the vehicle empty. “Clear.”

  Clayton yelled out the same, and Mitch popped the liftgate. “Clear back here too.”

  Groans of relief mixed with anxiety filled the air.

  “There’s nothing here as far as clues, maps, notes, or anything that would tell us where they went. We can’t even check the last entry on the GPS since we don’t have keys.” Jack scratched his forehead and took in his surroundings. Fresh tracks in the dirt caught his eye. “Damn it. Check this out.” He knelt and pointed at the impressions in the packed dirt road. “He had a car stashed here. See those tracks? They’re too small to be from tractor tires. According to Trish’s family, she has a Ford Escape, which is still at the house in Slinger, and Brian had the Jeep. That’s telling me somebody loaned him a car, and I’m leaning toward the cousin who lives conveniently close to this location.” Jack pushed off his knee and stood then jerked his head at Clayton. “Call Forensics and tell them we need detailed photos and a mold of the tire tread. They can haul this Jeep to the evidence garage too. I’m heading back to the cousin’s house. Billings, get Tech on the phone and have Luke pull up every vehicle that is registered to Mark Peters.” Jack walked the side of the path so he wouldn’t disturb the tire tracks. “Cousin Mark may find himself sitting in a holding cell before the day’s end.”

  Chapter 9

  With a jiggle of the key and a turn of the knob, Cole gave the door a shoulder shove, and it creaked open. He entered the stairwell and flipped on the light switch then took the twelve steps down to the basement level. Candy stirred at the sound of his approaching footsteps and began struggling with the same frantic energy she’d displayed the day before.

  Cole frowned his disappointment.

  This certainly wasn’t the result I was expecting. I wonder why the procedure didn’t take effect.

  He moved in closer and stood at her side. “I’ll admit, you’re a tough one, Candy. Apparently you’re going to fight it all the way.”

  He checked her restraints and gave them a tug before removing the bandages that covered her eyes. Her body stiffened at his touch, and moans sounded from behind her taped mouth. He set the gauze pads aside. Her lashes were caked with dried blood, and deep-blue bruises circled her eyes.

  “I’m going to wipe your eyelids, so you’d be wise not to flinch.” Cole walked away and filled a stainless steel bowl with warm water from the sink. Back at her side, he dipped gauze pads in the water, squeezed them slightly, and placed them over her eyes. “I’ll let them sit there for a minute to soften the dried blood.” He shook his head with disgust. “Tsk-tsk, it looks like you’ve wet your pants, young lady. You know, it isn’t like you have a change of clothes here. I’ll have to see what I can do about that later.” He lifted the damp gauze and began wiping the crusted blood off her lashes. He wondered if she’d understand his commands. If she did, the procedure would have proven to be a failure. He’d need to repeat the lobotomy. “There we go, now open your eyes.”

  He watched her facial expression for acknowledgment of his order and waited for her reaction. She lay motionless. A wide smile crossed his face—the procedure was an obvious success. Seconds later, her lids fluttered, and she opened her eyes.

  “Damn it. Squeeze my finger if you understand me.” He placed his index finger in the palm of her hand, and she squeezed. Cole threw the bowl of water across the room. “What the hell, am I losing my touch? Nothing about you has changed at all.” He ripped the tape from her mouth, and she flinched. “You felt that, didn’t you? Answer me!”

  “Yes, it hurt.”

  “What else can you feel?” He tapped her shoulder. “Did you feel that? Blink twice if you did.”

  She blinked, and tears slid down the sides of her face to the table beneath her head. “Why am I here? I want to go home. I’m sure my family is looking for me.”

  “I don’t have time for this! You’re supposed to be alive but brain dead. I can’t put you back out on the street in this condition. You’ve already seen my face. I have to start over.”

  Sobs erupted from Candy’s mouth. “Please, please let me go. I don’t know you or your name. I won’t say a word to anyone. I have two kids who need me.”

  Cole sneered at her nonsense. “How would you explain the bruises around your eyes?”

  “Bruises?”

  “Yes, you idiot, have a look.” Cole spun and crossed the room to his workstation. He grabbed a hand mirror and returned to her side. “Look at your ugly face.” He held the mirror in front of her.

  A look of shock engulfed Candy as she stared at her reflection. “What did you do to me? I want to go home—please let me go. I’ll say I was beat up in an alley somewhere. Nobody will know the truth.”

  “No can do, Candy. I have to start over. This time, there won’t be any mistakes.” Cole grabbed the roll of duct tape and tore off a six-inch strip.

  “No, please let—”

  He cut off her sentence by pressing the tape firmly over her mouth. “It’s time for another sedative.”

  Chapter 10

  I followed Jack to the home of Mark Peters. It was Jack’s second time there in the last hour and a half. I pulled into the driveway of the small farmhouse and parked at the back of Jack’s Challenger.

  He waited at his car before walking to the door. “I just got word from Luke. Mark Peters has two vehicles and a motorcycle registered under his name according to his DMV records.”

  I jerked my head toward the detached garage. A motorcycle stood inside the carport at the garage’s side. “It looks like the bike is accounted for. What kind of cars does he have?”

  “Luke said he has a blue 2012 Ford F-150 pickup and a tan 1999 Chevy Lumina that just had the registration renewed six weeks ago.”

  “Is he married or single?”

  “Single, and I’d venture to say if anything is missing, it would be the Lumina. Guys like their trucks.”

  We turned at the sound of the screen door slamming behind us. Mark Peters took the three steps off the oversized porch down to the sidewalk.

  He jammed his fists into his cargo pants pockets. “Back again, Lieutenant?”

  “Actually, our conversation wasn’t finished. I was called away on an emergency. Let’s continue where we left off.”

  Mark reached up with his left hand and rubbed his chin. He seemed irritated by our presence. “I don’t remember where we left off, and honestly, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  Jack gave him a grin. “What I was about to ask before I left is how many vehicles you own and what they are.”

  Mark tipped his head toward the bike. “I have that and my truck, why?”

  Jack ignored his question. “Sure, and where is the truck now?”

  “In my garage, and I suppose you want to see it, right?”

  I gave him my best smile. “Thanks, that would be great. I noticed you weren’t wearing a wedding ring. No missus?”

  He gave me a scowl as he led the way to the garage. “Can’t be bothered with that breed.”

  “That breed? Women aren’t livestock, Mr. Peters. Have a bad relationship that sticks in your craw? You seem a bit misogynistic, if you ask me.”

  “Well, nobody did.” He entered the code into the keypad on the doorframe, and the overhead lifted. The truck was parked inside.

  Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s the truck, just like I said. Anything else, Officers?”

  “We’re Lieutenant Steele and Detective Monroe from the Washburn County Sheriff’s Office. The city police are officers.” I entered the garage and noticed the large void where the Lumina probably sat on a regular basis. “This is a big garage for one vehicle. It doesn’t even look like you use the rest of the space for storage. Why not keep your bike inside where it’s out of the weather?”

  “Now I have to explain my actions on my own property?”

  I knelt to the floor and dabbed my index finger in a black puddle. I
rubbed my finger against my thumb then took a whiff—motor oil. “Looks like a car was recently parked here, possibly a tan 1999 Lumina with an oil leak?”

  Jack spoke up. “Either come clean now or back at the sheriff’s office, it’s your choice. When was the last time you saw Brian Cox? And I want the truth.”

  He rolled his eyes and smirked. “This is all about Brian? I haven’t seen the guy in weeks.”

  “Really? I thought you were best buds,” Jack said as he walked toward me.

  “Not even close. Apparently somebody is feeding you bad intel.”

  I looked over my shoulder and laughed. “Now you’re using police lingo? Been around cops a lot, have you?”

  “Your words, not mine, but I do watch TV. Is there a crime in that?”

  Jack knelt at the pool of oil. “So you haven’t answered Detective Monroe’s question. Where is the Lumina?”

  “I sold that car months ago. Why would a single guy need to pay insurance on two vehicles and a motorcycle? I’m trying to reduce my carbon footprint on the world. It’s that feel-good sort of thing, you know?”

  “Did you learn that on TV too?” Jack asked. “When did you sell the car?”

  “I sold it in March.”

  “Yeah, that just isn’t working for me. The thing is, Mark, if you sold that Lumina months ago, the oil wouldn’t be fresh, it would only be a stain. Oh, and another thing, if you sold the car in March, then why was the registration renewed in April?” Jack stood and faced the man. “Cough up that bill of sale or we’re heading out.”

  “Don’t let me stop you. You’re welcome to leave right now.”

  “Have it your way.” Jack gave me a nod.

  “My pleasure.” I pulled a set of handcuffs from my belt, linked Mark’s wrists behind his back, and read him his Miranda rights. Jack escorted him to the cruiser as I climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Mark yelled out the door. “You don’t have any grounds to arrest me on.”

  “Lying to law enforcement is grounds enough.” Jack shut the car door behind Mark and leaned in at my driver’s window. “We’re getting to the bottom of this today. Take him to the sheriff’s office and throw him in a cell. He can sit there and stew for the time being. Meanwhile, I have to get a BOLO out for the Lumina. I’ll be about ten minutes behind you. I have a few calls to make first.”

  “Roger that, boss.” I gave Mark a glance through the rearview mirror, shifted into Drive, and headed to North Bend.

  Chapter 11

  The sedative was taking effect, and Candy would soon be unconscious. Cole gathered his tools again and rolled the cart to her side. He pinched the inside of her upper arm, and she didn’t flinch.

  “It looks like it’s time to begin.” Cole poured alcohol over the ice pick to sterilize it then taped her eyelids to her forehead.

  This time, the cavities I create in her brain will be larger, and I’ll double the dose of alcohol I squirt in. If that doesn’t change her state of mind, nothing will, short of filling the voids with poison.

  Cole jotted down the new formula for someone like Candy who was resistant to the original method. He reached for the tap hammer that lay on the cart. After positioning the ice pick under her left eyelid, he gave it several good taps with the hammer and created a new hole through the layer of bone. Once the pick broke through and had reached the brain mass, Cole gave the tool several hard side-to-side motions to jostle the brain tissue. He slid out the pick, wiped off the residue, and repeated the procedure to the right side. The entire process took only fifteen minutes. He flushed the holes with saline and used gauze pads to dab the fluid seeping down her face.

  “Okay, let’s see if this does the trick.” With a double dose of alcohol sucked into the dropper, Cole squirted the first dose deep under her left eyelid, filled the dropper again, and squirted it under the right lid. “There.” He dabbed away the remaining liquid and removed the tape holding her eyelids open. He placed gauze over her closed eyes and secured it to her skin. “I guess that’s it for now. I don’t have much time to deal with you anymore. If this doesn’t do the trick, you’ll have to die.”

  Cole cleaned the tools, rolled the cart away, and performed a final check of her restraints. She was secure. He gave her one more look before turning off the light. “Happy Mother’s Day, Candy. Bet you never had one like this before.” He flipped off the switch, left her in the pitch-black room, and locked the door behind him.

  Chapter 12

  Jack slammed his fist on the metal table, creating a loud echo inside the interrogation room. After an hour of questions that had gone nowhere, he was losing patience with Mark Peters.

  Mark, his hands folded on the table, stared at Jack. “Losing your cool, Lieutenant?”

  “We know you still own the Lumina. A bill of sale, new plates, and record of a new ownership for that car’s VIN have never been entered into the DMV’s database.”

  Mark shrugged. “Guess the person I sold the car to hasn’t registered it yet with the state. I’m growing tired of this game. I want to go home and watch TV. Since you have nothing to hold me on, you need to release me. You’ve arrested me with no proof of wrongdoing on my part. I’ve already told you, I sold that car, and I’m not going to make up something to fit the narrative you have in mind. Either let me go or get me an attorney. I’m done talking to you clowns.”

  I watched through the one-way glass as Jack pushed back his chair and exited the interrogation room. Seconds later, the door at my side opened, and Jack entered the observation room. He plopped down on a vacant chair.

  “He’s wasting precious time. We already know what Brian Cox is capable of since he shot his own father-in-law and took his wife hostage. I’m sure Mark knows where Brian is holed up, and from his attitude toward women, I’d bet he had a hand in Trish’s kidnapping. Between the two of them, they could have connections anywhere.” Jack fisted his eye sockets and squinted. “We’ve lost hours of daylight looking for that Jeep only to find out Brian was in a different vehicle all along. He could be in Illinois for all we know.”

  I thought about the odds of Brian being as far away as Illinois, but I didn’t want to upset Jack any more than necessary. Chances were, Brian could be much farther away than that. He had been on the run with Trish for several hours before we realized the BOLO for the Jeep was useless. Brian had likely ditched that vehicle within the first half hour of Trish’s abduction.

  “Now what? It sounds like he’s clammed up completely. We don’t have proof that he loaned the Lumina to Brian.”

  Jack raised his brows as if he’d thought of something.

  I smiled. “Did you just have an epiphany?”

  “Sure did. We can hold Mark for twenty-four hours, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. I’ll go throw his ass back in the cell. I want you to call Clayton and find out if there have been any sightings of the Lumina. Tell him to gather the troops and go home. They’ve done all they can for now, and the chances of Brian still being in the area are slim to none. Make sure to ask him if they’ve updated the state patrol with the plate number for the Lumina. An alert will show up if that car passes any freeway plate readers.”

  “That’s only as good as the plates legally registered to that car. If Brian has swapped them out with stolen ones, then we’re dead in the water again.”

  “True, but we may have one up on Mark. If my theory pans out, we can charge him with being an accessory to a kidnapping and obstruction of justice. I have something we need to check out while there’s still a bit of daylight left. Meet me at my car in ten minutes and bring your brightest flashlight.”

  As I waited next to Jack’s Challenger, I stood with my purse slung over my shoulder and a flashlight in hand. Five minutes later, he exited the sheriff’s office and took the steps down to our parking lot. He dug his car keys out of his pocket and clicked the fob.

  “Hop in. We’re going back to the dirt road where the Jeep was parked.”

  “Really, why?”
r />   Jack shifted into Reverse, backed out of his parking spot, and turned around in the lot. He headed to the exit and turned right.

  “Seeing that puddle of oil in Mark’s garage gave me an idea.”

  “Yeah, what?”

  “If the oil leak came from the Lumina and if it was parked on that dirt road for any length of time, there should be a small puddle where it sat on the dirt road too.”

  “Smart thinking, but it’ll be dark by the time we get there.”

  “Not quite dark, and that’s why we have flashlights. What is a detective good for unless it’s detecting?”

  “Humph, I guess you have a point.”

  I was sure Jack and I were the only ones still working that Mother’s Day night. Our night shift crew had likely taken over for everyone who had come in earlier to work overtime.

  We reached the dirt road at seven thirty. Jack turned in and downshifted into second gear. The headlights bounced off imaginary figures along the road, which, in reality, were only tree branches and grasses swaying in the early evening breeze. Jack killed the engine a quarter mile in and pocketed the keys.

  “We’ll walk the rest of the way just in case.”

  “Just in case of what?” I shined my flashlight left to right ahead of us. I didn’t want to be taken by surprise.

  Jack chuckled. “And I thought you were as brave as Jade.”

  “I’m brave when the sun is shining. You have to admit, it’s kind of spooky out here once the sun sets and the pitch black takes over. Those sounds in the distance are enough to unnerve anybody.”

  “They’re just owls hooting, Amber, nothing to be frightened of. You do have your gun, but you’d look pretty foolish if you shot an innocent opossum skittering by.”

  “I’ll save my bullets for something that stands upright on two legs and looks vicious.”

  “Bigfoot?”

  “With less hair, but yeah, like that.”