Page 46 of Lake House Killer

She squints in the dim light and groans as she struggles to sit up.

“Lydia Cole?” she repeats and her words slur as she manages to land on her bottom. “I’ve been looking for you.” She pants out a sad laugh. “I guess I found you after all,” she grunts as she tries to free her hands.

“You’re cuffed,” I say. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I think so. My head is pounding.”

“Sorry about that.” I lean in. “What do you mean, you’ve been looking for me?” I ask, mostly because my curiosity is piqued. “Did I make the news? What’s happening? Are Cornwall and Cynthia okay? What about Damien?” His name comes from me with a growl. I’m not so sure I care to know. My mind has run rampant with theories and he has propagated all of them.

“Your friends are dead.” She takes a deep breath as if trying to keep from passing out. And now I feel like passing out as well.

“No.” It comes from me in a whimper. “No, please, tell me that’s not true.”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffs hard. “Your husband is fine. He sustained a minor head wound and a bullet through his hand. He’s been released from the hospital. He’s cooperating with the authorities.” She jangles her cuffs and it sounds like music. “I’m Special Agent Nikki Knight. I’m sorry we’re meeting under such hellish circumstances. Do you know who took you? Have you seen their face? Heard their voice?”

“None of the above. But boy, am I glad to meet you. How did you end up here?”

“Walking back to my car, dark alley, jumped from behind. I don’t know what happened or who hit me. My guess is Owen Marcus.”

“Owen is behind this?” I choke on the thought. “That man is psychotic. I wouldn’t put this past him.”

“He’s not your first choice?” She sounds surprised by this.

“He’s on the short list. I’ll admit, I didn’t pin him to the top. I have no idea who’s behind this.” The voice I heard the other night was raspy, heavily disguised. It could have been anyone.

Am I still protecting him? Even now?

Or maybe I’m too weak to care. Ironic because being too weak to care most likely landed me in this predicament.

“It doesn’t matter much who did it,” Nikki says. “Because they just messed with the wrong woman.” She wiggles and hops and soon her arms are in front of her body. “We’re going to get out here.” She moans hard one more time. “That is, when the room stops spinning. Any idea where we’re being held?”

“I know exactly where we are.” I glance at the door that refuses to budge. “We’re in Sugar Pine Lake, in the shed below my cabin.”

29

Special Agent Fallon Baxter

We headed straight for the field office.

No donuts.

No pizza.

Just work.

The fact that Jack didn’t even mention food is enough to relay the dire straits we’ve found ourselves in.

I fed Buddy a bounty of kibble and a can of wet food from the stash I keep in the truck, Jack’s truck. That says a lot about how at home I feel with him. But he considers Buddy half his, so there’s that. And once we land in the office, I give Buddy a fresh bowl of water to wash it all down.

The office is a beehive of activity with agents huddled around laptops as we scour through ceaseless hours of security footage from just about every business in the area around the Oasis.

The overhead fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over our makeshift war room. We burn past midnight and into the wee hours of the morning without coming up for air.

Coffee cups litter the table, alongside strewn papers and laptops aglow with streams of data. My eyes burn from the relentless scrutiny of surveillance footage, but the urgency of finding Nikki propels us forward.

Hale sits at the head of the table with a grim expression as he pours over the reports regarding the Becks and the Coles.

He taps a pen against his notepad with anger marking the rhythm. “I’ve combed through everything at least six times. Where the hell are Lydia and Nikki?” he growls at Jack and me. “How could you let her go out with that guy? He could have chopped her up, put her in a suitcase, and shipped her to China for all we know.”

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