Page 69 of If You're Reading This
Cold certainty settled in Logan’s gut.
“He knows we’re here,” he murmured.
Then the figure raised something to his mouth—a radio or phone.
Logan’s blood turned to ice as he heard Duke’s confused voice crackle through their comm system.
“Logan? I’m getting some kind of interference.”
But through the static, another voice cut through—calm, educated, unmistakably the killer. “Good evening, Trooper Logan. I hope you’re enjoying the aurora. It really is spectacular tonight.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ranger whispered. “He’s hacked our frequency.”
The voice continued with chilling composure: “I’m disappointed you brought so many friends. I was hoping for a more intimate encounter. But no matter—I’ve prepared for various scenarios.”
Logan grabbed his radio. “Who are you? Where’s Morgan?”
“Morgan is safe. For now. But I’m afraid your presence here has complicated things. You see, while you’ve all been watching me, I’ve been watching someone else.”
Through his binoculars, Logan saw the figure point toward the tree line behind their position.
“Andi,” the voice said, and Logan’s heart stopped. “Such a dedicated partner. Always willing to take point, to scout ahead. I do admire that quality.”
Logan spun around, frantically scanning the darkness behind them. “Andi, report your position!”
Silence.
“Andi!” Duke shouted into his radio.
“She’s fine,” the voice assured them. “Simply unconscious. A small dart, very humane. But she’ll remain that way only as long as you follow my instructions precisely.”
Logan’s hands shook as he raised his binoculars, trying to locate Andi in the darkness.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” the killer continued. “You’re going to let me walk away. You’re not going to follow me, call for backup, or attempt any heroics. In exactly one hour, you’ll receive a text message with Andi’s location. She’ll be unharmed—I have no interest in lawyers. They don’t fit my artistic vision.”
“You son of a?—”
“But,” the voice cut Logan off, “if I see any movement from your positions in the next thirty minutes, if I detect any attempt to track me, Andi will die.”
The figure by the lake calmly finished packing his equipment.
“Oh, and Logan? I’ve left you a small gift on the peninsula. Consider it a preview of coming attractions. You might want to retrieve it before the wind carries it into the lake.”
The radio went dead.
Logan watched helplessly as the figure shouldered his pack and began walking calmly toward the tree line. Every instinct screamed at him to pursue, but the thought of Andi—unconscious somewhere in the wilderness—paralyzed him.
“We can’t let him go,” Duke said, his voice tight with rage.
“We don’t have a choice,” Logan replied, the words like poison in his mouth. “He has Andi.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
The longest sixtyminutes of Logan’s life crawled by as they maintained their positions, watching the killer’s headlamp disappear into the forest. When the time elapsed, Logan and Duke carefully made their way down to the peninsula while Ranger continued scanning for any sign of Andi.
On the rocky outcrop, held down by a small stone, was a white envelope with Logan’s name written on it.
