Page 33 of Cougar Point

The man is asking personal questions, and that makes Victoria feel some small hope she will be released soon. She feels like the man and the woman are playing good kidnapper, bad kidnapper with her. The woman is always brutal but the man sometimes softens. He is the least violent of the two in any case. His method of taking the “proof of life” pictures left something to be desired. His hand felt like a club, and she’d probably have black eyes from his slaps. Her eyes are still watering, and she is having trouble breathing through her broken nose.

The man asks, “How big is Cougar Point?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Wrong answer,” he says, and grabs a fistful of hair, yanking hard until she thinks her hair is being pulled out. She cries out, and the woman giggles. “Now you know the rules. I ask a question and you answer. Another ‘I don’t know’ out of you and I’ll scalp you.” He grabs a handful of her long hair, and she can feel him cutting it off near the top of her skull. “Maybe I’ll send this to your husband. Jack, right?”

She nods, and he grabs another handful of hair.

“Yes, his name is Jack,” she says, her voice an octave higher than she intended. She’s frightened. He isn’t sane. “I’ll answer your questions.”

“Good. You learn fast. Now. How big is Cougar Point?”

“It’s huge. Maybe one hundred acres of mostly wooded land. It covers the tip of the peninsula and overlooks the bay.”

“Is it surrounded with a wall?”

“Yes. Well, at least the area around the house. The wall goes all the way to the bay.”

“Tell me about the entry.”

“There’s a tall metal gate. It’s electric.”

“Cameras?”

“Yes.”

The questioning continues and intermittent photos are taken until he is satisfied. Now she has time to think and feels a little anger at her cowardice. He already knew about the wall and the gate and the camera. Those questions were a test and a lesson to put fear in her. It didn’t take much to scare her and she hates herself for the weakness.

If he knew about her home’s security, he didn’t need to grill her. If he didn’t know about the security, she’d told him everything he needed to enter the property and even the house. He’d forced her to give him the alarm codes.

She’d asked again if he’d contacted Jack, and she could feel his anger building and had to say she was sorry and would be quiet. He warned her that if she asked again, he’d put the gag back on, but he didn’t and he’d left.

Now she is worried about Jack and Rebecca. What if he hurt them? It would be her fault.

TWENTY-FIVE

FEBRUARY 2023

Whatcom County

“Mac” MacDonald and his partner were on the first direct flight from Cincinnati to Seattle the morning after Lucas’s call. Lucas picked them up at the airport. Standing at arrivals, he spotted them immediately; cops always stuck out in a crowd, even two cops as visually distinct from one another as these two.

Detective MacDonald looked pretty much as Lucas would have guessed from hearing his voice. A big, barrel-chested guy in his early fifties with a shaved scalp and a suit that was a little too small for him. His partner was a petite woman with reddish brown hair, glasses, and a dark blue pant suit that somehow looked as though it had been freshly pressed, despite the fact she had stepped off a five-hour flight.

Lucas wasn’t carrying a sign, but MacDonald immediately homed in on him when he saw him. They shook hands and MacDonald turned to his partner.

“This is…”

“…Detective Anderson,” the petite woman said, extending her hand. “Kyra Anderson. Good to meet you.”

Lucas took her hand and was struck by the smoothness of her skin as well as the firmness of the shake. Her gaze told him that she wasn’t one for wasting time on pleasantries.

“Have you two eaten? We can grab something here before I take you to see the body.”

“We’re good,” Anderson said.

“I could eat,” Mac said, drawing a sharp look from his partner. “And we both need a coffee. But we’d like to see the dump scene first.”

---