Vanishing Girls (Detective Josie Quinn #1)(68)

“Because… Because you don’t understand how deep this goes. It wasn’t that simple. If she was really here, and he had taken her, and all the guys on the force knew about it, do you know what that would mean?”

“Do all the guys on the force know about this place?”

“I don’t know. A lot do. A whole lot. And it’s not just here. It’s not just police either. I think… I think Gosnell’s been at it for a long time.”

Disgust rose in her. “His wife knew. She helped him. How could she do it? All those women.” Suddenly June’s vicious fork attack seemed too good a death for Sherri Gosnell. It all made sense.

“Yeah,” Ray agreed. “I think she lured them. Sometimes, anyway.”

“So you just asked Dusty outright?”

“Well, yeah, basically. I asked him if he thought Gosnell had anything to do with Isabelle Coleman going missing. He told me to shut my mouth and stop asking stupid questions.”

“But when we talked on the phone you made it sound like you knew she wasn’t here. Like she was but she wasn’t anymore. What the hell, Ray?”

“Dusty came to me. A few days ago. He said Gosnell told him that he had her but that she got away.”

Every muscle in her body tensed, a slight quickening. If she got away, she might still be alive.

“That was when everyone went crazy, like looking for her around the clock. We started getting all these tips, sightings of her walking along roads or in the woods. It was different than when she first went missing, you know? Like all these guys were freaked out that they would get busted so it was more important to find her than before.”

She shuddered. “What were they going to do when they found her?”

She felt him shrug. “I have no idea.”

Josie had some ideas. “And the chief, is he—?”

“I don’t know.”

“He hasn’t said anything?”

“No one says anything, Jo. I mean, Dusty said something to me but that’s it. It’s not something anyone talks about.”

“Ray.”

“Yeah?”

“What happens to the girls when Gosnell is done with them?”





Chapter Fifty-Eight





It was impossible to tell how long they’d been there, but it seemed endless. Ray had felt his way around most of the tiny cell and found a toilet in one corner which they used to relieve themselves. They were both thirsty and starving. The only water was the toilet water, but they agreed they weren’t that desperate yet. Josie still had the granola bars in her jacket that she had bought at Geisinger. There were four in all. They each ate one and resolved to save the other two for later. They clung to one another and talked until they could no longer stay awake.

Josie had no idea how long they slept, but she woke to Ray shivering uncontrollably. She had fallen asleep with her head in his lap, and now her skull bobbed as his legs shook. Her fingers searched his body, reaching up to his face. Cupping his cheeks in her palms, she got onto her knees and leaned in close. “Ray,” she said. “Ray!”

He moaned.

A surge of adrenaline shot through her like it had just been injected directly into her heart. Every sense sharpened. His ragged breath sounded deafening. Why was he shivering? He said he wasn’t badly injured.

“Oh my God, Ray!”

Of course he said that. He’d lied. He was trying to keep her calm. She felt for the zipper on his jacket and slipped her hands inside, walking her fingers over every inch of him until she found the wound. When her fingers pressed into the tender, torn skin, he cried out. It was on his left side, closer to his back than his front. She knew from her training there wasn’t all that much on the left side of your abdomen, which was why he was still alive. But he was going into shock. She couldn’t tell how much blood he had lost. Or how much time he had. Her T-shirt would work well as a bandage. She took her jacket off, tossed it to the side and pulled her T-shirt over her head. Shivering in just her bra and tank top, she balled the T-shirt up and pressed it against his wound.

“Jesus, Ray.”

By feel she switched places with him, leaning her back against the wall and lowering him down so that his head lay across her lap. She felt for the shirt, making sure it was firmly pressed against his torn flesh and then laid her jacket across his chest. One hand stroked his hair as hot tears rolled down her cheeks and landed on his face and neck. With her other hand she found them and gently wiped them away. He was burning up, his skin on fire. She wished she could see him, see his face. She cursed the darkness yet again, and she cursed Nick Gosnell for putting them here.

“Ray,” she said loudly. “I need you to talk to me. I need you to stay with me. Ray!”

He moaned again, uttered a few incoherent words. She said his name again and again, each time her tone more strident. His words became clearer. “Need to talk… you about… and Misty…”

They were few, but his words hurt. She couldn’t bring herself to be cruel. “I know,” she croaked. “You want to marry her and live happily ever after. Ray, it’s fine. I’m okay with it. You have my blessing. Please stop worrying about that.”

He relaxed a bit, although his body still trembled. She gathered him into her and held him as tightly as she could, trying to still him. “Stay with me,” she whispered to him. “Stay with me.”