A Darkness Absolute (Casey Duncan #2)(86)

Like Val, Sutherland woke to someone in his room. Someone strangling him while holding a bag over his head.

A surge of adrenaline let Sutherland throw off his attacker. By the time he clawed free of the bag, he was alone in the room. That was when he’d grabbed a knife and raced outside to find Sam unconscious. He’d left him there and run all the way across town to Dalton’s place.

That’s all he can tell me.

*

On to the scene of the main crime: the poisoning of Diana and the abduction of Nicole. I find the tea blend in the kitchen. There’s only one, making it easy to dose. I bag that as evidence. Then I pour Diana’s leftover tea into a jar.

Upstairs, I stand in Nicole’s bedroom doorway and visually process. Dalton says he only came as far as the door, so the scene is intact. I sketch it. Then I go straight for the teacup on the nightstand. I pick it up and sniff. It’s nearly empty, and it smells the same as Diana’s. There’s no sign of struggle in the room, suggesting Nicole was unconscious when she was taken.

I hunt for further clues but find nothing.

*

I’m at Sutherland’s place, piecing together the evidence with his story. I find the ligature used to strangle him. That doesn’t exactly take skilled detective work—there’s a ripped length of sheet lying beside the bed.

A strip from a sheet seems an odd choice until I think about it. His attacker undoubtedly made a choice not to use rope. It would abrade the attacker’s hands, leaving marks. It also isn’t easy to stuff a suitable length of rope in your pocket. For this, all Sutherland’s attacker needed to do was rip a length from his victim’s spare set.

*

I’m back at the clinic. Anders and Dalton are talking to the militia and volunteers, preparing for tomorrow’s search. Diana is being watched by Sam, who’s back on his feet and eager to prove himself. Jen’s assisting.

“So, you guys screwed up,” Jen says as I walk into the room where Diana is still unconscious. “Val has some lunatic break into her place, and the very next day, Nicki is taken. Again.”

I’m about to answer when Dalton’s voice drifts in from the hall, punctuated by footfalls. “Yeah, I fucked up. Now go make yourself useful.”

Jen turns on him. “You did fuck up, Sheriff.”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“No, we fucked up.” I turn to Jen. “All evidence suggested Val’s intruder was only a nightmare, but we should have proceeded otherwise. Added extra guards. Maybe moved both Shawn and Nicole into a place with a single entry point.”

“Happy?” Dalton says to Jen. “Or do you want us to sign a confession, too?”

Jen’s eyes narrow. “I was just pointing out—”

“That we fucked up. That Nicole is gone. That Shawn could have been killed. Yeah, we’re disappointing you by not arguing, but we don’t have time for that. We take responsibility. Now move on, so Casey and I can figure out how to find Nicole.”

“I want to help. As permanent militia.”

“Does this seem like recruitment time? I’ve told you that I’ll pay you for what you do now, and after this is over, I’ll consider your application.”

“Bullshit. You’ll never hire me. You hate me.”

“Hate?” He snorts. “Too much effort. I just don’t like you much, which wouldn’t stop me from hiring you. You know what would? The fact you’ve got a longer infraction record than anyone in this town.”

She crosses her arms. “I’ve done my time.”

“Still, getting hired might not be in your best interests. Militia are subject to triple penalties for all infractions.”

“You just made that up.”

“Yep. Now go think about it, and if you still want to apply, see me next week. In the meantime, if you join the search, you’ll get militia pay.”

She still grumbles as she heads to the door, saying, “I’m going to be right outside, and I’m coming back in to watch Diana when you’re gone. You’re not ripping me off halfway through a shift.”

“Thank you,” I say. “We appreciate the dedication.”

She snarls a fuck off over her shoulder as she leaves. When she’s gone, Dalton and I collapse into chairs beside Diana’s bed. A few minutes later, I’m sound asleep.





FIFTY

We’re on the trail at first light, as Dalton promised. Out all day on horseback, in hopes that the quieter ride will help us hear anything untoward. We don’t.

We return to the cave. As much of a long shot as that might seem, that’s exactly why we have to go back. It’s like when I played hide-and-seek as a girl—my favorite trick was to return to a spot I’d used earlier because no one ever checked those. We’re dealing with a smart man, in full control of his choices and actions. He might do the same. He didn’t. We comb through that cave system and find no sign that he’s even visited it again.

Late afternoon, we return to join the general search. The hunt is both organized and controlled—the last thing we want is for Nicole’s captor to grab a second victim.

There’s no shortage of volunteers. Too many actually, more than we can afford to have in the forest and keep the town running. I used to hear about searches like this down south. Someone would go missing on a hiking trail, and I would always wonder at that. How could you leave groomed trail—often to go to the bathroom, as Val had—and get lost? The search would be organized, with hundreds of volunteers and tracking dogs and search helicopters—every tool available to modern search-and-rescue. Yet they’d find nothing. How was that possible?