Page 165 of Dead Man's List

“Who’s your friend?”

“And they say you’re so smart.”

A glimmer of movement from the cabin caught Kit’s eye. Not from the front door where the man’s voice was coming from, but from the window on the far left. A light had been turned on, throwing a figure into silhouette.

Kit blinked in shock. It looked like a girl, and she was trying to open the window. She pushed and pulled, finally pressing her face to the glass in a silent cry for help before disappearing from the window.

The light in the window went out.

Shit, shit, shit.

He had a hostage. The girl couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen.

And then Kit realized.

Peter Shoemaker.

Shoemaker had raped his daughter from the time she wasnine years old. Kit didn’t know who the girl in the window was, but it made sense that the man would go after other girls now that Kennedy had left the home. “Shoemaker, it’s over. I’ve talked to Kennedy. I know what Munro was really blackmailing you over.”

There was a beat of silence. “You don’t know anything.”

It was a third voice, neither deep nor melodious. He sounded like the assistant principal they’d met the night before.

Kit ran through the facts in her mind. She’d questioned Shoemaker as the killer until Bert Ramsey’s wife turned up dead. Shoemaker would have been in court at the time of Mrs.Ramsey’s murder.

He could still have an accomplice. Or…

Or he hadn’t been in court at the time. He’d arrived in a taxi just after Kit and Connor had stopped at his house to interview Aylene. Conveniently timed. And it had also been convenient that no one could get in to discover his wife’s body until he’d arrived to look shocked.

Did he think we wouldn’t look at what time he was released from court?

He probably had thought so, because theyhadn’tdouble-checked. They’d accepted his arrival at face value.

“You shouldn’t have run away, Peter,” Kit called. “If you’d stayed at your in-laws’ house, the worst you would have been charged with is sexual assault of a minor. Now we’ve got you on seven murders.”

“Nine,” he shouted. “And it’s going to be eleven when I’m done with you two.”

“I don’t think so. The longer we stand off, the more time my boss has to get here. I really did call him not too long ago and told him where we were searching.”

“You didn’t call him. No cell signal. I heard you say so.”

“I called him from a gas station. Used their landline. You’re trapped.”

“So are you.” The front door slammed, leaving them in silence, the only sound the rain now falling on the trees.

Kit watched the cabin, squinting into the darkness. He might come out the back, but she should see him approach.

And she did, but not until it was too late. A figure dressed in black slunk around the rear of the cabin. Kit fired twice but didn’t think she’d hit him.

She ran back to where Connor sat, now shirtless. He was still sitting up, one hand clutching his gun, the other pressing his shirt to his wound.

“If you don’t bleed out, you’ll catch pneumonia,” Kit muttered.

“How’d you know it was Shoemaker?”

“He’s got a young girl in there. I saw her through the window. You can’t see from here. I think our best bet is to get into the car and drive like hell. If he’s in the woods next to the cabin, he can’t get a good shot if we stay on the driver’s side of our car.”

“We’re letting him go? No way in hell. He’s killednine people, Kit. We can’t let him kill any more.”

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