The Killing Game(114)

“I’ll look for Carter,” Luke told her. “Andi’s probably with him.”

“Look, Denton, I’ve probably said more than I should, but I haven’t gone into everything. Might be best if you leave meeting with Carter Wren to us.”

Fat chance. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

“Seriously, Denton. This is a police matter.”

And I used to be the police.

“All right,” he said, not meaning a word of it. He clicked off and peeled out of the parking lot.

Rafferty and her partner were working on a separate case that traced back to the Wrens. What were the chances?

Finch. Meadowlark. Wren.

His jaw tightened and he squinted into the oncoming headlights. Traffic wasn’t that heavy because rush hour was over, but he still passed a van decorated in yellow and green piping and proudly boasting University of Oregon stickers on its window and license plate. He drove another two miles and was trapped by an ancient VW that could barely chug up the hill at thirty.

His mind was on the recent killings. The women, all with names of birds who had been murdered. He downshifted and passed the Volkswagen in seconds. His truck’s engine protested as his headlights cleaved the dark night. His gaze flicked to the spot where Gregory Wren had driven, or been forced, off the road.

Had that just been an accident? Who would benefit from Gregory Wren’s death?

The Carreras might have, if Carter had anything to say about it ...

“Carter.”

Luke thought about that hard. His heart squeezed. If Andi was with Carter, what did that mean?

To hell with the two female detectives. If Carter knew anything, Luke was going to get it out of him first. Though he trusted the detectives to do their job, he didn’t have time to wait through all the bullshit protocol. Luke was going to head to the lodge construction site first and meet up with Carter.

And if you’re wrong ... and Carter doesn’t know where Andi is ... and that bastard Robert Fisher, whoever he is, has her?

Luke pressed his toe to the accelerator, his jaw locked in concentration.

*

Gagged and bound, Andi watched through the windshield as Carter drove to another cabin by the lake. His cabin, she realized, as the beams of the older Ford’s headlights reflected back from paned windows. Like her cabin, and a lot of others around Schultz Lake, the structure was set back from the road and hidden from the road by a wide swath of trees, but the rear end of the cabin opened to the cold waters of Shultz Lake.

“This is where the fun begins.” He said it with such anticipation that she visibly shivered and her insides went numb.

During the drive her body had recovered slightly from the tasing. Her brain was clearer, and when she told her head to turn in a certain direction, she was able to. But she kept still, not wanting him to know she was gaining control of her muscles. Faking her infirmity might be her only weapon in a very slim arsenal.

Keep your wits about you. Be smart. Keep cool.

He climbed out of the car, threw off the jacket and left it on the ground, then came around to the passenger side. He’d pulled off his ski mask on the drive and now he dragged her from the car, propping her up to stand, but she dropped to the earthy-smelling ground.

“Get up!” he demanded, and she made gurgling noises behind the gag.

He pulled a knife from his pocket and put it close to her face. But then he smiled and bent down to slice the ties binding her ankles. Then he yanked her to her feet, keeping her hands bound, and half-dragged her up the two steps to the front door. It was open and he threw her inside as he flipped a switch near the door. Several lamps flickered on. The furnishings were modern and bare. A bookcase holding a flat-screen and video equipment dominated the space in front of an L-shaped leather couch.

Carter pulled a small remote from his pocket and clicked it. The wall shifted, opening to a narrow hallway. “This way,” he said, grabbing her by her bound wrists and hauling her to her feet. He pushed her through the opening, along the short hallway and to another windowless room where a chair was placed squarely in its center.

Andi’s heart filled with ice as she looked around the room. The perimeter was lined with several computers, two large televisions screens, a chessboard set up on a small table, and a bookshelf filled with books on puzzles, mysteries, and magic. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere and fresh air somehow was vented inside, though the room had a deadened quality to it. She knew without being told she could scream forever and never be heard.

Andi swallowed hard. A digital clock glowed a warning red. It had been nearly an hour since she’d been abducted.

“Now, sit,” he ordered, using his pistol to point to the austere ladder-back chair in the middle of the floor. She took a step that way and fell, as if her legs had given way. She didn’t have to fake the trembling. She was frightened enough that her shaking was visible.

“Get up!”

She struggled into the chair and he strapped her into it, tying her with a thin, wiry cord that cut into her arms.

“You know, Andi, I’ve always found you attractive,” he said. He glanced up from tying her ankles to each chair leg and found her eyes. “You were always too good for Greg. You should have known it wouldn’t work. The bastard couldn’t even get you pregnant, but he sure could Mimi. Yep, she was pregnant. I checked, and I was going to have to do something about it, but then she took care of things herself.”