And she had been right about Dr. Lawler. She had seen him before. He hadn’t admitted it yet, but she remembered. She had dreamed about it. In every dream but one he was watching her. While taking the tests or whatever. But the other time—that one time—he had been arguing with her mom.
Somehow she knew deep down that what happened was his fault. That was something else she felt. It was like an echo from deep inside her somewhere. It warned her that she was in danger. From him.
It was too late to fix all the things she had kept from her mother. But it wasn’t too late to do something now. To warn her dad.
Her dad had taught her the ways not to be a victim and though she had failed and ended up here, she wasn’t going to fail again. She started on one of the long ends of the room. With the bucket turned upside down, she climbed up on it—took her a couple of tries since her hands were basically no good to her. Once she was on the bucket, she raised her arms up over her head and felt around. And found nothing.
She did this all the way around the room. It wasn’t until she reached the right side of the door and the final few feet she hadn’t checked that she found something.
It wasn’t a shelf but it was like the metal bracket that had once held one. She didn’t actually know what it was, but she intended to hook her hands over it and scrub back and forth on the edge until she ripped this tape free of her wrists. As long as she got it done before he came back, she could at least make an attempt to protect herself.
Because that feeling was telling her to run or to hide…something really bad was going to happen.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
8:00 p.m.
A knock on the backdoor drew Kurt from his search of the final few boxes. He moved toward the window but it looked out over the backyard so it was no help. Then his cell pinged with a text notification. He dragged it out of his pocket, only then realizing he still wore his coat. It was a text from Audra. She was at his door with a man from the FBI.
Kurt gathered the folder with the evidence about Meltzer/Lawler and hurried down the stairs. He almost laughed at the idea that he had forgotten to take off his boots as well. He’d left a trail of melting snow which was now little puddles of water.
Didn’t matter.
Without Ella nothing mattered.
Emotion clawed at him. Whatever was going on, it had been happening since she was ten years old. Maybe before. And Liz had been dealing with it alone.
Fury blasted away the softer emotions. By God, he was going to end this.
He jerked the back door open and a burst of cold air and snowflakes hit him in the face. Audra stood on the top step. Behind her was a tall guy who was apparently the FBI agent she mentioned.
“Come in,” Kurt urged, moving back. “It’s cold as hell out there.”
Audra gave her booted feet another quick stamp, then stepped inside. She looked Kurt up and down. “Were you on your way out?”
He shook his head, placed the file on the counter. “Don’t ask.” He removed his coat and hung it on the coat rack next to the door. He didn’t bother with the boots.
When the door was closed and the three of them stood in that small corner of his kitchen, Audra said, “I dropped by your office and Mr. Cuddahy was there looking for you. Doreen said you were here and I offered to show him the way.”
Mister not agent. Kurt’s attention shifted to the stranger.
As if he’d read Kurt’s mind, he extended his hand. “Special Agent Tom Cuddahy, retired.”
Kurt shook his hand. “Kurt Nichols.” Then he reached for Audra’s coat and hung it next to his own.
Cuddahy deposited his coat on the hook next to hers.
“I should make some coffee,” Audra announced. “You two sit and get the information flowing. We don’t have a minute to waste.”
She was right. Worry, fear and desperation curled through Kurt. He appreciated her support more than she could know. “Have a seat,” he offered the stranger, then gestured to the table.
Cuddahy took a seat. Kurt reached for the folder he’d left on the counter and joined the apparently retired agent at the table. “What brings you here, Mr. Cuddahy? I have to tell you things are a little complicated right now.”
It wasn’t until Kurt was seated that he realized how exhausted he was. Didn’t matter. He had to keep going until he found his little girl.
Cuddahy gave a nod. “I’m very sorry to hear of what’s happened, but I’ve come to help.”
Cuddahy looked to be mid-forties. A few threads of gray were visible in his dark hair. His face bore the undeniable signs of rough roads and steep mountains. Kurt was intimately familiar with the terrain.