“Yeah, I found out something. Remember how I was looking into if anyone might have rented a boat from another company? Well, one guy, a friend of mine from across town, he did rent a boat to someone.”
“Who’d he rent it to?”
“Grady Planisek.”
“Planisek?”
“Yeah. He arrived after you did, must’ve gone around the south side of the island and that’s why you didn’t see the boat. Or it might have been the snow and the limited visibility—in any case, does the name ring any bells?”
“Actually, it does. There was a boy from this area who disappeared back when I was a kid. That was his name: Grady Planisek.”
And that’s what the demon flew through at the barn—the carved words, the phrase “Grady Planisek was here.”
Daniel thanked Larry and hung up.
Who would have used that name to rent the boat?
Grady went missing seven years ago.
As far as Daniel could remember, the boy was ten when he disappeared.
An idea came to him out of nowhere and it reshuffled all the puzzle pieces that he’d assumed were already in place.
Could Grady Planisek still be alive?
Is that possible? Could—
A strip of ice and a momentary skid toward the snowbank jolted Daniel’s attention back to navigating along the worsening roads, but after regaining control of the car, he thought about Grady.
You have the address of the Bell’s property.
It’s on the way to the institute.
It’s close.
Could whoever attacked your dad be there?
Would Malcolm Zacharias be in the area, at the institute, because of that?
Is he behind all this?
Or is it Grady?
Or Ty?
You could check it out.
Mr. Zacharias wants to meet to talk about people Hollister knew before going to prison. Ty Bell is one of them.
So: Meet with Mr. Zacharias or go and investigate the property on the lake?
The intersection was just up ahead.
You never told Mr. Zacharias when you were going to meet with him. You can get to West Creek Drive if you take the turnoff up ahead. Check it out. If there’s nothing there, you can go see him afterwards.
Daniel came to the road, made the turn, and headed for 1594 West Creek Drive.
Nicole was checking her messages to see if Daniel had texted her back when she saw the sweep of headlights cut briefly through the window as a car entered their driveway.
Huh, Daniel and Kyle made a lot better time than they thought they would.
A few moments later the doorbell rang.
After setting her phone on the coffee table next to the couch, she went to the front door, flicked on the porch light and glanced out the window.
No one was on the porch.
Okay. That was weird.
Who rang the doorbell?
After a short internal debate, she went ahead and eased the door open. “Hello? Daniel? Kyle? Where are you guys?”
She peered into the snowy night and saw no movement, nothing.
However, as she was about to close the door and lock it, someone leapt out of the shadows around the side of the house and rushed her. Stumbling backward, she tried shutting the door, but he wedged his foot in the way.
She moved back, her heart pounding tightly in her chest.
Ty Bell entered the living room.
“Hello, Nicole.”
And closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-SIX
Last September, Nicole had been driving through the country at night with Daniel after both of their dates failed to show up for the Homecoming dance.
As it turned out, Ty and his three buddies were waiting for them on the road. Daniel had faced them down when they were about to break into the car and get to her—she didn’t even want to think of what they might’ve done to her if they’d been able to get in—and they left. That’s what’d led her to carry pepper spray in her purse ever since.
And now she was alone with him, and her parents weren’t supposed to be back until eight.
Okay, but Daniel and Kyle are on their way. Daniel said six thirty. You just need to hold out, keep him talking, until then.
“How did you—” she began, but then anticipated what’d happened. “Oh, you were at your dad’s office, is that it? You heard the voicemail I left on the tip line.”
“I was doing a little research.”
“On where the wolves are.”
He smiled and tilted his head slightly to the side. “Look at you. Threading things together.”
Anger rose inside her.
“How many have there been, Ty?”
“How many?”
“Wolves. How many have you shot that haven’t been found?”
“They’ve found all of them except for one. It’s been a good run.”
She stepped forward and slapped him.
Hard.
He’s bigger than you are. He’s stronger. You shouldn’t have—
Screw it.
She was glad she had.
She backed up. “What are you doing here?”
He rubbed some fresh blood off his split lip. “I thought you and I could have a little chat.”
“Daniel and Kyle are going to be here any minute.”
“Then we better not waste any time.”
Stall.
No, you need to call someone. Get help.
She’d left her phone beside the couch and, as she slowly backed up toward it, Ty must have guessed what she was after, because he pounced forward, shoved her out of the way, and nabbed the phone.
“I’ll take that.” He slid it into his pocket. “This way we can have a little privacy.”
Oh, not good.
Not good.
You need to get out of here.
But he took a step so that he was standing between her and the front door. “I know where your boyfriend’s dad is.”
“What?” she exclaimed.
“If you go online right now and confess to shooting those wolves, I’ll tell you where he is.”
“You attacked Daniel’s dad? It was you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t me. But I do know where he is. And I’ll tell you.” He waved his phone at her. He had a video app pulled up. “You just need to admit to the world what you’ve been up to.”
“That’s crazy. Who would ever believe I’m the one who killed those wolves?”
“They will because of the gun they’re gonna find in your garage.”
“That’s not enough. Daniel was with me when we found the wolf you shot on Saturday. He knows it wasn’t me. He’ll vouch for me.”
“Psycho boy?” He scoffed. “He’s not the most stable guy around. Besides, everyone would expect him to cover for you.” He patted the pocket he’d slipped her phone into. “They’re also going to find the tagged wolf locations on your cell.”
“Oh. I see. After you download them.”
Another smug grin.
“You can’t possibly think that I would agree to that.”
“Well.” He put his phone away. “At least I tried.”
She didn’t like the look on his face.
Just go ahead and do it, Nicole. No one will buy it anyway and maybe he’ll tell you where Daniel’s dad is.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll say I shot them. Let me have your phone.”
“Just the fact that you believed me tells me how naïve you really are.”
The wicked glint in his eyes frightened her and she thought again of the time when he’d pulled the knife on Daniel and tried to get to her in the locked car.
He carries an automati
c knife.
He probably has it with him tonight.
He—
Without waiting another moment, she spun and bolted up the stairs to her bedroom. Slammed the door. Locked it.
Slid her dresser over against it.
But then she heard Ty stalking up the stairs.
“We have some unfinished business, Nicole. But we can take care of it in your bedroom, if that’s how you want this to go.”
CHAPTER
FIFTY-SEVEN
6:21 P.M.
10 MINUTES LEFT
Sheriff Byers heard the mechanism in the handcuff’s lock click.
The cuffs popped open.
He unsnapped the link from around his wrist and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, then crossed the room.
He hadn’t heard Hollister lock the door earlier, but he was ready to kick it down if necessary.
He tried it.
Unlocked.
Good.
Quietly, he swung it open.
Jacked up on adrenaline and ready for a fight, he entered the cabin’s living room and took it in: rustic wood furniture. A couch. Two chairs. A fireplace. Three mounted white-tailed deer heads on the wall near a pendulum clock. An open doorway to the kitchen. Glass French doors on the far wall.
Suturing thread, needles, bloody dressings, and some empty syringes and medicine bottles sat on one of the counters.
He didn’t recognize the place. Hadn’t been in here before.
No sign of Hollister.
Where is he?
He glanced around the room for a phone, but found none.
Get out of here. You’re in no shape to fight anyone. Just get moving.
He was on his way toward the front door when a photo on the mantel above the fireplace caught his attention.
It was a picture of Ty Bell sitting beside a dead whitetail, a gun laid across its antlers.
The sheriff paused.
Who would have put that picture up in his cabin?
Most likely someone from his family. Most likely—
Is this Lancaster Bell’s hunting cabin?
Is he involved?
Hollister mentioned someone else, said someone was coming. Is Lancaster the one who—
“Stop right there, Sheriff.” Brandon Hollister emerged from the kitchen, holding a long serrated survival knife. “Sit down. On the couch.”
Sheriff Byers let his hands form into fists. “Think I’ll stand.”
Nicole tried to calm her breathing and figure out what to do as Ty wrenched at her locked doorknob.
“Don’t be like this, Nicole. We can come to another arrangement.”
Think, Nicole, Think!
He has your phone.
She desperately searched her room for—
Yes.
He did have her phone.
But she had her laptop.
Daniel crossed the bridge spanning Pine River, and then turned onto West Creek Drive.
He’d only driven on this road a couple times, but based on how close he was to the lake, he figured he was less than a mile from the property.
Sheriff Byers watched Hollister carefully, waiting for him to let his guard down long enough to move in and disarm him.
“Put down the knife, Brandon.”
“No.”
“Put it—”
“No! Sit down.” He checked the clock on the wall and fidgeted with a small case on his belt, about the size of a cell phone case. “Now.”
“You said before that you wanted my help, but I’m not going to help you with anything while you’re threatening me with that knife.”
Hollister didn’t move.
They both stood their ground.
The sheriff tried a different tack. “Why did you stab me if you want me to help you?”
“I wanted to kill you at first, but he told me not to.”
“Who told you not to?”
“He’s coming and . . . you don’t know what it’s like. Time becomes . . .” His voice broke with what sounded like a tremor of fear. “I want the world to know the truth about what they’re doing there.”
“Where? At the prison? Were you mistreated?”
“Not the prison. The institute!” Hollister tapped the blade against the side of his own head. “In your brain. They do things up there. Make it seem like . . .”
“Brandon, you need to set that knife down.”
Hollister aimed it at him. “You’re the one who arrested me! It’s your fault I ended up there!”
“Okay. What institute are you talking about? The Traybor Institute?”
“They were asking for volunteers, said it would shorten our sentences, but . . . in the room.” His hand was quivering. “They strap you down. Can you imagine solitary confinement? But without a break, without any relief. That’s what it felt like—weeks—even though I was . . .” Hollister shook his head violently. “They won’t believe me.” He waved theknife back and forth as if to accentuate his point. “But they will believe you.”
Careful. This guy is losing it. Keep him talking, but don’t push things.
“Alright, I’m listening. Tell me what’s going on.”
CHAPTER
FIFTY-EIGHT
Daniel parked.
Exited the car.
There weren’t any other vehicles in the driveway, but the lights inside the cabin were on, so it appeared someone was there.
Check it out, then go meet with Mr. Zacharias.
He approached the front window to see if he could peer inside, but the shades were tightly drawn.
Going around the side of the cabin, he found some French doors on the deck.
Through the glass he could see two men standing at the other end of the room in the main living area.
One of them was his dad.
He’s alive!
Thank God, he’s alive!
The other guy was about ten feet away from him, holding a knife.
Daniel recognized him as the prisoner he’d seen at the Traybor Institute.
It’s Brandon Hollister. He went to prison for murder. He’s going after your dad!
Daniel tried opening the French doors but they were locked. With the wind already rattling the glass, neither man noticed him.
You need to get in there. You need to help your dad.
But how?
He returned to the front of the cabin, but that door was locked as well.
Alright, then.
Find another way in.
Nicole set her laptop on the dresser beside the door so the microphone would pick up Ty’s voice from the hallway.
Having someone admit to the wolf poaching was a good idea, but it wasn’t going to be her who was confessing to the world.
“So does your dad know what you’ve been doing?” she asked.
There are tons of ways to call for help online, and as she worked, she sent out texts and emails to at least half a dozen of her friends that she needed the cops at her house now.
Ty didn’t reply so she went on. “Or, what about those three guys you always hang out with?”
“No one else knows. It’s our little secret.”
She checked the levels, made sure that his voice was coming through.
Yes.
Good.
He tried the doorknob again. “Open the door, Nicole.”
“So you shot all the wolves yourself?”
She waited. He said nothing.
“Why’d you kill the wolves, Ty?”
“Target practice.”
She felt another surge of anger because of what he’d done. “Even if you put the gun in my garage, it’d get tracked back to you. Even you must know that much.”
“You think I’d use my own rifle
?”
“What? Whose did you use?”
“There’s this research center. There’s a certain guy who works there. I borrowed his Browning Automatic. Now—”
“You mean you stole it.”
He cranked on the doorknob one more time. “I’m not here to hurt you, Nicole. I just want us to come to an understanding.”
“What kind of understanding?”
C’mon, Daniel. Hurry!
“One that—”
As she was uploading the audio she accidentally tapped ‘Play’ and it started replaying, aloud.
“What was that?” Ty shouted. “You recorded me?”
Oh, no!
She scrambled to post the audio, but Ty slammed his fist against the door and she retreated across the room.
He pounded it again, trying to break it open.
Nicole dropped her computer onto her bed.
And went for her purse.
Moments ago at his car, Daniel had used Larry’s phone to punch in 911 to get some officers and an ambulance here for his dad. Dispatch told him that with the roads as bad as they were and with him being that far out of town it might be up to eight or ten minutes before any help could arrive.
No.
That was way too long.
He needed to do something himself to help his dad.
Opening the trunk, Daniel retrieved the shovel that he kept to dig out of snowbanks if necessary, then headed for the deck of the cabin.
The sheriff listened as Brandon Hollister explained what he’d gone through at the Traybor Institute.
He kept checking the clock. “When he gets here we’ll take care of everything.”
“When who gets here?”
“You’ll see.”
“After I help you, what are you going to do with me? Are you going to let me go?”
“You get your name on the wall.”
“What?”
Daniel didn’t know for sure if this was going to work, but he did know that if he sat around doing nothing waiting for help to arrive and Hollister killed his dad, he would never forgive himself.
Positioning himself close to the glass French doors, he gripped the shovel’s handle, as if it were a baseball bat, then brought it back behind his shoulder and swung it forward as hard as he could, smashing the blade through the door, which shattered, spraying glass across the inside of the cabin.