Page 19 of The Girl He Wanted

Something that they could check. Something that, if they caught him lying about it, would help them to be certain that he was the man they were looking for.

"Look, Ellie died last night, right? Well, I wasn't even in Winterly. I was up the coast, doing some work a couple of towns over. And ... well … and seeing someone. That's what Sophia and I fought over. She found the pictures on my phone."

Paige's heart sank because that sounded like an alibi that would be easy to check. One that Reynolds had plenty of proof for. She got up, leaving the interrogation room. Christopher was there waiting for her.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

He nodded. "And I've been checking his phone as well as chasing up the forensics. Yes ... here are the photographs. He wasn't in Winterly when Ellie Kane was killed. Then there's the rope. It's climbing rope, but he uses a different brand. The fibers are a different chemical makeup."

Either one of those pieces of information might have been enough to clear Reynolds of suspicion, but both together made it almost a certainty. Paige felt a pang of disappointment. She'd been hoping for a breakthrough, but instead, they were back to square one.

"Damn it," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. She’d wanted it to be him. She’d wanted this to be simple.

"We can let the local PD hold him for attacking us, and maybe see if his girlfriend wants to press charges," she said, turning to Christopher. "We're done with him."

As they walked away from the interrogation room, Paige couldn't help but wonder who had killed Ellie Kane and Bea Milling. The rope fibers were an important lead, but they still had a long way to go before they caught the killer. She just hoped they could do it before they struck again.

CHAPTER TEN

He drove, ignoring the repetitive thudding sound coming from the trunk of his car as Sarah woke up. It didn't matter now that they were on the move. She was tied and gagged, so there was no chance of her getting out or attracting enough attention to cause a problem.

Even so, he found himself watching every car and pedestrian they drove past, watching out for any sign of trouble, any sign that they had recognized that there was a woman being held captive in his trunk. He was ready to hit the gas at the first hint of a problem.

Of course, there were no such signs. He even drove past a cop car without a problem, although he still tensed as he did so, waiting for the sound of their siren, the flicker of their lights. Only once they disappeared in his rear-view mirror did he dare to breathe a sigh of relief.

Nothing could be allowed to interrupt what he was doing. It was too important for that.

He was driving through a quiet part of town now on his way out to the limits of the city, to the spot he had picked out. The streets were empty, and the only sounds were the tires against the pavement and Sarah's occasional muffled cries. He had planned this meticulously, and he knew that he wouldn't be caught. Not after all the work he had put into this. After all, he hadn't been caught with Bea Milling or Ellie Kane, had he?

As they drove farther and farther, moving away from the city, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. They were safe now, and he could finally relax a little. He loosened his grip on the steering wheel and took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came from knowing that he could do whatever he wanted with no one to stop him.

He let out a sigh of relief as he drove out of the city, away from the prying eyes of the people. He knew that he had covered all his tracks. The only thing that mattered now was to get Sarah to the spot he had picked out. The place where she would die.

That place was only a little way ahead: a large field with an oversized weather balloon waiting, tethered in place. It was more than enough for the payload he intended for it.

He drove up to the edge of the field, getting as close as he could before he stopped the car in a secluded spot where it wouldn't be seen. He went around to the trunk and opened it, pulling Sarah out roughly. She stumbled as she was pulled out, and he grabbed her arm with bruising force to steady her. He wanted to make it clear that she had no chance to fight back or get away.

He pushed her towards the balloon, ignoring her attempts to break free, all but carrying her as they got closer. He could feel his own anticipation in this moment, the knife already waiting ready at his belt. Would this be as good as the others had been? He hoped so.

Slowly, he started to tie her in place, lashing her to the weather balloon. Maybethistime, they would see what he was doing and understand.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They bought takeout and found a motel to stay the night at. A part of Paige didn’t want to stop, but she was too tired by then to do anything else other than sleep. She and Christopher booked rooms next to one another, and Paige paused at the door to hers, while Christopher stood at his.

“Christopher, are we all right?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been very quiet around me, and … I don’t know, different. If that’s grief, I want to be there for you, but is it something else? Are you … angry with me?”

That had been Paige’s fear almost since the start of this: that Christopher would be angry about her going to see Adam Riker, that he would blame her for Jennifer’s death.

She saw Christopher wince slightly.

“No, it’s not that. It’s not that at all. You couldn’t know how Riker would react. That … that’s not why I couldn’t call.”

“Then why?” Paige asked.

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