He clenched and released his fists, maybe because he wanted to wrap them around her neck. She wrenched her wrists, but the cuffs refused to budge. Her feet were free though. If he would just leave her alone for a few minutes, maybe she could escape. It was so dark, he’d never find her once she lost herself in the woods.
“What are you going to do?” Her voice trembled.
“Pain will purify you. The sin of envy is grievous, Eve. It caused you to commit every one of the abominations. Pride, lies, all of them. Have you ever read Dante’s Divine Comedy?”
She’d read it in college, but right now, while her pulse thundered in her ears, she couldn’t remember what it was about. Something about descending into purgatory—perhaps where she was now.
When Eve didn’t answer, he smiled. “With your eyes sewn shut, envy will not be possible, Eve, and you should thank me that you shall enter purgatory partially cleansed.”
He meant to sew her eyes shut!
She remembered the scene now. The sinners’ eyes had been sewn shut with wire.
“Ah, I see you remember,” Oliver said. “Your flesh shrinks from pain, but your spirit will revel in it.”
“How will my suffering help Miranda?”
“Miranda is catatonic because she lost her beauty. You took it from her, and you’ll give it back.”
Her mind threw the crime scene photos of faceless women down before her eyes. They released fearful tears. “How will I do that if you sew my eyes shut? My face will be mutilated too.”
“I’ll be careful not to harm your skin.”
She jumped to her feet, straining against her bonds. “Let me go!”
He smiled then, amused. “You think I’m mad. No matter. You’ll soon see. But not tonight. Tomorrow, everything will be in place.” He stood and went outside.
Eve heard a lock click, followed by the sound of a wooden bar falling into place. She ran to the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. He’d taken the lantern with him, and darkness shrouded the cabin. She couldn’t see anything.
She recalled a reflection of the lantern about three feet from the door. A window? Maybe she could get out that way. Eve felt along the wall until her hand touched cool glass. She peered out the window and made out the outline of the van. Where had he gone?
Did she dare break the glass and try to crawl out? Surely he’d hear her. Biting her lip, she considered her options. If she stayed here, she had no chance. Even if he heard her attempt to escape, he was saving her for some diabolical scheme and would be unlikely to take revenge right then. She had to try it.
Groping across the floor, she tried to find some kind of weapon. A rock, anything. Her hand touched cool, bare earth, then the leg of his chair. Maybe the chair. She picked it up, hands still cuffed, and had raised it to shoulder height when she heard his tread on the porch.
She barely made it back to the cot before the door opened and he stepped back inside.
28
WHILE KADE CHANGED THE TIRE, BREE SAT ON THE CURB AND watched the pedestrians amble around town. More than two hundred geocachers had registered this afternoon, and she was spent. But she went on alert when she saw Patti disappear into the coffee shop. “I want to talk to her, Kade,” she said.
Kade tightened a lug nut. “You sure you want to do this tonight? Eve is home alone.”
“You’re not quite done. I’ll be back before you’re finished.” She hopped up and hurried into the shop. Inhaling the rich scent of coffee, she glanced around for Patti. She expected to find her at the register, but instead Patti sat at a back corner table.
Will was with her.
Bree marched to the table. Patti saw Bree when she was three feet away. The soft expression she wore vanished, and she snatched her hand away from Will’s. He whipped around in his chair and stared up at Bree.
Bree pulled a chair out and sat down. They might as well keep it quiet and civilized. “I have some questions,” she said.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Patti began. She looked a little pale, and beads of perspiration dotted her upper lip and forehead.
Will had his fingers pressed to the side of his head as though it ached. “Don’t bother making excuses, Patti. Someone saw her and her nosy husband coming out of the mine. I’m betting she knows.”
“I saw the pictures,” Bree said. “You and Patti together. Eve and Keri. You’re Keri’s father, isn’t that right?”
“Bingo. What are you going to do about it?”
Bree glanced at Patti. “Did he tell you he was romancing your sister?”
Patti’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s using you to get Keri, because his plan to get her through Eve failed.”
Patti’s gaze swiveled to Will. “Is this true? Do you know Eve?”
His laugh was hollow. “Don’t you see what she’s trying to do?”
Bree thrust her chair back and left them arguing. She had never wanted to hit someone so badly in her life. When she got back outside, Kade was letting the Jeep down off the jack.
He took one look at her face and said, “We were right?”
Bree grabbed his arm as he started toward the café. “Don’t bother, honey. He isn’t worth it. Let’s get home and check on Eve.”
THE LIGHTHOUSE WAS DARK WHEN NICK PARKED AND SHUT OFF the engine. He glanced in the backseat, and just as he’d expected, Keri was sleeping in her car seat. They’d gone to the petting zoo at the ranger station, then to Houghton for her to play in the McDonald’s play area.
He eyed the dark house again. Where had Eve gone? She’d said she was going to stay home and relax. And where were the Matthewses?
After unbuckling Keri and lifting her into his arms, he carried her around back to see if Eve was sitting out watching the stars, but the backyard and porch were deserted. He moved to the edge of the cliff and looked down onto the beach. No Eve.
A vague sense of unease gripped him. Samson was barking from inside. He glanced across the street. The dark shape of the police car was still there. If she had left, why hadn’t Fraser followed her?
The lighthouse was at the end of the road and had no close neighbors. The Blue Bonnet B and B was the closest, but no one from there could see into the backyard here.
He tried to tell himself not to worry, but his unease mounted when he found the back door unlocked. Pushing inside, he flipped on the light. “Anyone home?”
Samson woofed, and his nails clicked on the floor as he rushed to greet Nick. He whined and kept going to the door.
“You have to go out?” Nick opened the door, and the dog rushed through. Instead of going to the yard to do his business as Nick expected, Samson turned and gave him an “Are you coming?” look.
The dog was clearly agitated. Nick laid Keri on the sofa, then dug out his cell phone and called Bree. “Hey, do you know where Eve is?”
“Isn’t she at the house?” Bree asked.
“No, and the house is dark. The back door is unlocked, and no lights are on. And Samson is upset.”
“I had a flat, and Kade came to help me. He hasn’t been gone long. We’re almost home. I’ll call Montgomery. Eve wouldn’t leave the house unlocked. She was going to stay in with the doors locked.”
“I know.” Nick’s gut turned over. He closed his phone and went to search the house. Nothing. Maybe she was down on the beach. She liked to walk along there. But not at night. He could only pray she’d sprained her ankle or something and was sitting there waiting for him. But wouldn’t she have shouted for help? His mind ran through all the possible scenarios, but he didn’t think any of them held up to scrutiny.
Leaving Keri sleeping on the sofa, he grabbed the flashlight by the back door and stepped outside. He rushed to the steps leading to the beach. The dark night made it hard to watch his step on the stone flight, and he nearly fell twice.
Once his sneakers sank into the soft sand, he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted for Eve. He listened but heard
nothing more than the waves crashing on the rocks. The wind kicked up, and lightning flickered overhead.
“Eve!” he shouted again. When there was no answer, he walked along the shore, shining the flashlight along the sand. Nothing. He turned to go back to the lighthouse and caught sight of a paperback book lying on the ground. He picked it up.
It was the book she’d been reading the last few days. His throat closed, and fear numbed his limbs. She wouldn’t have just left it here. Something had happened to her.
Using the handrail to steady himself, he took the steps two at a time. There was no note, no indication of where she’d gone. He called her name in the house, but there was no answer. Keri was still sleeping.
Nick’s concern exploded into full-blown worry. Fraser should know what had happened. He jogged out the front door and over to the officer’s car. “Fraser, Eve’s missing.”
Fraser didn’t answer. Nick shined his light into the car, but the glass reflected too much glare to see clearly. He jerked open the car door. Fraser’s head was back, and a wet stain covered his chest. A knife protruded from it.
Nick pressed his fingers to the man’s throat. “Fraser?” His partner’s flesh was cold. Dead. Nick tried to wrap his mind around the fact as panic and grief closed his vocal cords.
Nick swallowed, and his panic released its grip. He wheeled as Kade’s pickup and Bree’s Jeep parked in front of the lighthouse. “Bree, Kade! Fraser is dead. Gideon’s got Eve.”
Bree didn’t waste time asking questions. She darted for the house. “I’ll get Samson.” The men followed her inside. Samson hunkered down on the floor and barked when they entered the house, then bounded to the door. Bree stood and went to grab her search-and-rescue backpack out of the closet. Samson began running around and barking when she got out his search vest. She slipped it on him.
“Come with me, Samson.” She ran upstairs with the dog on her heels.
“Where’s she going?” Nick asked Kade.
“She’s having Samson smell Eve’s things and get a fix on her scent.” Kade grabbed the phone. “I’ll call Anu and ask if we can drop Keri off at her place. She’s already got Davy. We’ll need everyone we can get.”
“Samson is on her trail,” Bree said. She held the leash, and Samson pulled her along the yard.
His nose in the air, he bounded toward the side of the house. Nick and Kade ran after Bree and Samson. The dog reached the front yard and tugged Bree toward the road. He stopped at the end of the driveway. His tail, which had been wagging excitedly, drooped.
Bree unclipped the leash. “Search, Samson.”
The dog ran back and forth across the yard and street. He went down the street a few yards, then turned back. His ears lay back and his eyes looked mournful.
“She left in a vehicle,” Bree said. “He’s lost her scent.”
THE PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH WAS DRY AND TASTELESS, BUT Eve acknowledged her fear might have made the food flavorless. It was all she could do to summon enough saliva to swallow the first bite.
Her eyes on Oliver, she managed another bite, though she longed to throw it to the ground. She’d already done that once, but he’d picked it up and handed it back to her. After hesitating, she took it and decided it was best to keep him calm until she figured out how to get out of this.
He seemed so sane and rational. Even now, as he sat quietly eating his own sandwich and swigging a Pepsi.
Maybe she deserved this. She didn’t like to think about Miranda, didn’t like to remember the night she’d sunk lower than she ever dreamed she could. Her eyes burned from the effort to keep the tears at bay.
She wet her lips. “I’ve always loved swans. I thought I heard some outside. Do you have swans here?”
He threw back the last of his Pepsi and set the can on the floor. “On the pond. A glorious family. Come, I’ll show you.” He stood and helped her to her feet, then held the door open for her.
Such a contradiction. So courteous and yet so evil. Eve couldn’t wrap her mind around it. He kept a tight grip on her arm as they went around to the back of the cabin. Thunder rumbled overhead, and fingers of lightning illuminated the mostly overgrown path. In the next flash, Eve saw the white birds gliding along the pond’s surface.
“Trumpeters,” she said.
“That one is Odette,” he said, pointing to the nearest swan.
The swan glided nearer and fluttered out of the water and onto the ground. She ran at them, and Oliver backed up. “Careful, she’s quite territorial. She has a penchant for taking the skin from my hand. I’m sure she’ll find yours just as tasty.”
If only he’d loosen his grip on her arm. Out here in the open, freedom felt as close as the smattering of mist on her face. At the next lightning flicker, Eve darted a glance into the thick brush and tried to see where she could hide if she managed to get away.
“Odette, just like in Swan Lake. You must know the story.”
“I watched a recording of it every day when I was growing up,” he said in a monotone, his rapt gaze on the swans. “It was a copy of the Bolshoi Ballet. Maya Plisetskaya was the greatest ballerina ever to dance in it.”
“She was lovely,” Eve agreed.
“The swans were my escape. When my foster father would come to my room at night, I could see the swans from my window. Until he was done with me, I would shut my eyes and imagine I was swimming with them, watching their feet move through the water, seeing them dive for fish.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He glanced at her. “No need to pity me. The pain shaped me. It set me on my journey to be one with the universe. I’m aware that you think I’m quite mad. Nothing could be further from the truth.” He smiled. “Pain and sacrifice are good for the soul.”
“And what have you sacrificed?”
His mouth twisted. “Enough talk.” He turned her around and propelled her back toward the cabin.
Eve dragged her feet and waited to see if his grasp would lessen even a fraction. But his fingers dug into her flesh with a relentless grip. When they reached the entry, he stumbled slightly over the step up, and she took her chance.
She tore out of his hand and darted toward the woods. He shouted after her, and she ran faster over the uneven ground. Wet leaves and branches lashed at her face, and she fought them blindly. Thunder rumbled again, and the rain let loose from the clouds. She was soaked to the skin and shivering in seconds.
The ground grew slick. The patter of rain on leaves drowned out any noise of pursuit. She spared a glance backward just as Gideon tackled her and drove her into the mud. Her face smashed into the cold muck, which filled her mouth and nose. She couldn’t breathe, and she fought the suffocating bulk of Oliver on top of her. Stars exploded in her vision as she failed to inhale a last gulp of oxygen.
The blackness deepened around her, and with it a final regret. She wished she could have seen Nick and Keri one last time. The darkness took her down.
EVERY DOG UNIT IN THE AREA RESPONDED TO BREE’S CALL FOR help, though she wasn’t optimistic about their chances. Since Gideon had taken Eve in a vehicle, it would be a miracle if they managed to get her scent. He could have taken her anywhere, back to his lair in some other county even. They had no idea where to begin looking.
She sent two teams to each of the roads out of town while the men combed homes and businesses to see if a resident had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Since the forest was also a possibility, she and Naomi took their dogs and drove out to the Ottawa forest. Samson’s soulful eyes watched her from the backseat, and Bree could feel her dog’s distress.
Parking along the road, she and Naomi got out and opened the doors for the dogs. Charley and Samson leaped out. Bree let them smell one of Eve’s socks, which she’d double bagged and brought with her. The dogs sniffed, then strained at their leashes.
Bree released the clip on Samson’s leash. “Search, Samson!”
The dog disappeared across the road. Bree trained her high-powered flashlight
on him and watched as he bounded through high weeds with his nose in the air. Charley followed, and both dogs crisscrossed the dark meadow where it joined the inky forest. They ran back out onto the pavement and took off down the road about a hundred feet, then circled back.
“They don’t have a scent,” Bree said, watching the aimless way they wandered from the ditch to the other side of the path. Lightning flickered overhead, and thunder chased it.
“Let’s go on down the road.” Naomi called Charley to her.
Bree snapped her fingers, and Samson ran to sniff at her leg. “Let’s go, boy.” They walked along the side of the road deeper into the forest. She could only hope Gideon had driven along here and the dogs would catch a whiff of Eve when she exited the vehicle.
The trees grew thick through here, and the heavy foliage of the oak trees on one side joined with the tangled branches of maple on the other side to form a canopy over their heads. Bree heard a smatter of rain, but no moisture reached her head.
It was so dark she wouldn’t have been able to see the pavement if not for the flashlight. She swept the beam of light back and forth across the road to guide them. The dogs needed no help. They ran ahead, and she could hear their soft woofs. The moisture would make scents strong and easier to follow.
If they picked up a trail.
“This feels pretty fruitless,” Naomi said, kneeling to tie her right sneaker.
Bree didn’t answer. She felt the futility, but they had to keep going. Eve depended on them.
If she was still alive.
They spent the next three hours walking down the road, then circling back to the Jeep and driving farther. The sprinkles of rain changed to a full-blown downpour, and the women and dogs were drenched.
Bree shivered under the rain slicker she’d pulled from her ready pack. She had no idea whether they were searching in the right place. “Let’s go back where our phones work,” she told Naomi. “Maybe someone has heard something.”
They jogged back to the Jeep and drove out to where the tree canopy broke. Two bars on her cell phone, good enough. There were four missed calls. Trying not to let her hope get out of hand, Bree called up the missed-call log and started to scroll through it.