Page 124 of Over the Edge

Not good.

A lot of bad stuff could happen in two hours.

“Is there anything else you can think of?”

“There was one other sort of odd thing. When I got to the end of the street and turned the corner, Missy here”—he motioned to the dog—“found a tree she liked. While I waited, I glanced back. The driver got out, walked around to the back of the car, then came down the street like she was in a hurry. About fifty feet from the corner, she stopped by another car and got in on the passenger side.”

“What kind of car was the other one?”

“I don’t know the make. I’m not into cars. If it runs and gets me where I need to go, that’s all I care about. But it drove by me as it turned the corner, and I noticed it was a dark sedan. Couldn’t see the people inside, though. The windows were tinted. But it looked expensive.”

“Did you by chance notice the license plate?”

“I did. The first two letters happened to be my wife’s initials—NL. Norma Lewis. They jumped out at me.”

Jack took out his notebook and began jotting down the information the man had passed on. “And your name is?”

“Dick.”

He asked a few more questions, got the man’s contact information, and tucked his notebook away as his fingers started to grow numb. “You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Lewis.”

“I hope you find the owner of that car. Hate to see crime in our neighborhood.”

“If more citizens like you stepped forward, the streets would be safer.” He took out another card. “Please give me a call if anything else comes to mind.”

“I’ll do that. Now I should take this little lady home before we both get frostbite. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

But as the man continued down the street, Jack knew it would take more than luck on this cold night to find Lindsey.

While an abduction would have been bad enough, there was an elaborate plan in the works here. As there had been at the lake and in the park and at the church.

The big difference was that in those cases, Robertson’s killer had been trying to make it appear as if she was losing her mind.

Tonight they were setting her up to lose her life.

Twenty-Six

SOMEONE WAS COMING.

Pulse accelerating, Lindsey eased back in the closet where she’d been listening with her ear pressed against the door for who knew how long. Yet hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to decipher a single muffled word. It would have been helpful to have a clue about what was in store for her. But her role was the same, no matter what.

Attack with every ounce of her strength.

Muscles tensing, she lifted the shelf and prepared to charge out fighting.

“Lindsey, we’re unlocking the closet.” Dr. Oliver’s voice came through the wood panels, grim and no-nonsense. “I have a gun pointed at the door, and you already know I won’t hesitate to use it. Once I tell you to open it, come out and walk toward the living room. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” But she wasn’t going to follow a single instruction. He wouldn’t shoot her in his house. There would be blood everywhere. For someone who’d been meticulous every step of the way about covering his tracks, it would be out of character for him to leave proof she’d been on his property, therebylinking him to her death. He wasn’t going to use a gun in his house.

But despite any precautions he might take in his home, the strands of hair she’d plucked out by the roots and tucked into every nook and cranny in the closet were waiting for the County CSU to find. So were the spots of blood she’d smeared under several of the shelves after shoving up the sleeve of her sweater and pricking her arm with a loose thumbtack she’d found on the floor in a back corner.

If she died tonight, Jack wouldn’t rest until he found her killer—and all the clues she’d left should be enough to put Dr. Oliver and his accomplice away forever.

Small consolation if she lost her life, but at least justice would be done.

A key was inserted in the lock, and her heart stuttered.

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