Page 46 of Already Lost

“Whose phone, and do you have a warrant?”Dean asked. He sounded lazy, like he was typing with both hands and holding thephone between his ear and shoulder, not really paying attention.

“I don’t need one. Special Agent LauraFrost’s personal cell.”

“Frost?” Now Nate could picture himsitting up and paying attention. Typical.

“Yes. I think she’s in danger,” Nate saidurgently. “We’re on a live case and she’s disappeared. I need that trace asfast as you can get it.” He opened the car door and hopped back inside, feelinghow the warmth of the interior hit him like a slap compared to the cold outthere.

“I’ll call you back immediately when wehave a result,” Dean said, then ended the call on his end.

Nate threw the phone down on the passengerseat, gritting his teeth in a grim grimace. Nice of the guy to only take himseriously once he knew Laura was involved. But if it was going to help keep hersafe, then he wasn’t going to waste time chewing him out.

He also wasn’t going to waste time sittinghere in this nice warm car, rubbing his hands together to get the cold out, andhaving a jolly old time while he waited. The trace could take a while, andLaura was on her own. Nate wasn’t going to leave her in danger and do nothing.

He put the car into drive and started tomove, first heading over the other side of the river and then scanning the mapon his cell. There were a few abandoned buildings that he could see. Liningthem up with the data they’d already gathered in the course of theinvestigation gave him a few more. There were warehouses up ahead, but alsoabandoned homes and at least one store that was temporarily closed. Notabandoned, but not yet opened up again, either. Any one of them could be a goodcandidate for a spot to take a victim, as far as this killer was concerned.

It didn’t matter how many there were. Natehad to find her.

He set his car in the direction of thenearest one and floored the gas pedal, knowing that every second he took tofind her could be the second that ended her life.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Laura had grown tired ofwaiting. She was beginning to think nothing was going to happen at all.

She stretched her armsabove her head restlessly, tapping both of her feet on the ground, turning herankles to ease out the kinks of standing still for so long in cold weather.She’d seen so many people cross the bridge already. It was popular even at thistime of night. People tended to come in ones and twos with gaps between them,couples or strangers. She’d seen a pair – a woman and a man walking closetogether and talking – already, but nothing had happened.

Was the killer even here?

She thought about phoningNate to see if he’d seen anything yet, but then thought better of it. If hiscell was on ring, it might disturb the peace of the night and alert the killerthat there was someone watching. She might even end up putting him in danger.She didn’t want to do that just because she was feeling impatient. She waited.

But it was cold, andbeing near the river didn’t help. She found herself rocking on the spot,shifting rapidly from foot to foot, doing anything she could to try to will someextra heat into her body. It was no use. She should have brought a longer coat,or something to keep her legs warm.

Restless, cold, tired,impatient. There was only one thing for it. Laura started to move, taking aslow stroll onto the bridge.

From here, she toldherself, she just might be able to spot a suspect somewhere hiding in thedarkness.

As soon as she steppedunder the light that illuminated most of the bridge, she knew that had been amistake. It was so bright up here that she could hardly see a thing. Thedarkness she had been comfortably standing in a moment before, at the end ofthe bridge, was now pitch black from her current vantage point. She couldn’tmake out a thing.

She turned in a circlebut couldn’t see anyone. It was so quiet here, in the residential part of town.Now over the center of the bridge, all she could hear was the rush of thewater. There was nothing else to disturb the peace.

This was a wild goosechase. She’d been wrong, hadn’t she?

She turned back to lookacross the other side of the bridge, wondering if she should walk over andcheck things out over there. There was something in the darkness, a kind offlicker, something that she thought she might or might not have imagined. Shesquinted, trying to see closer…

Her phone rang in herpocket, making her jump, and she almost laughed at herself. She grabbed it andsaw Nate’s name on the caller display, answering the call right away. Sheturned back to the other side of the bridge, the one she had come from, andbegan a slow walk back to the car.

“Hi,” she said. “It’squiet here. Anything with you?”

“Laura,” Nate saidurgently. “He isn’t here. I think he must be with you.”

“No,” Laura sighed. “No,Nate, I think I was wrong. I’m in the wrong place. We shouldn’t even be doingthis.”

“No, really,” Nate said.“I think you’re right. Look, just because my bridge was a bust doesn’t meanyours is. I really think you’re right about everything. Just stay there andstay out of sight. I’m on my way to you now.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’llwait for you here.”

“I’ll be about fifteenminutes,” Nate said, and then all hell broke loose.

The only thing Laura knewwas that someone was on her, someone who came from behind, and they had shovedsomething over her nose and mouth. She tried to breathe, her handsinstinctively going back to push and shove at whoever it was, trying to aim akick at them without being able to see. Her head was pulled back, her eyeslooking up at the black sky, and she found herself flailing wildly, missing hermark completely. She tried again, her arms feeling heavy, her head foggy, hereyes closing – she fought to keep them open one more time, her last impressionthe white light right overhead, fading into a mist that enveloped all of hersenses until there was nothing left.

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