Page 72 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

Kim went rigid beside me, and I wrapped an arm around her. It felt like the natural thing to do. As did kissing her hair.

“More girls… If that’s true, he’s a monster.”

“The world’s full of monsters, sweetheart. Some just wear human skin. But we’ll find him; I promise.”

Wyatt came back with his laptop, and I finally got to see my sister again. She’d never been fond of having her photo taken. Braces and pimples as a teenager meant she’d shied away from the camera, and even when she turned from an ugly duckling into a swan, she still hid her face behind her hair or a hat or other people. Most of the pictures I did have of her had Wyatt in them too, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at them before today.

But now, Emma danced on a table in Illusion, a club in a sketchy part of DC, before falling off into the arms of a man I didn’t recognise.

“You know that guy?” I asked Wyatt.

“Lena’s older brother.” Lena had been a grade ahead of us in school. “He went home with Sara Masterson that night.” Another old classmate.

Emma looked happy in the video. A little too happy, if anything, which didn’t bode well for her judgement. After ten minutes, she walked towards the bar, and Wyatt switched to a different camera.

“Here’s where she goes outside.”

She’d been wobbly by that point, fumbling in her tiny purse for a pack of cigarettes. Another habit she’d been trying to break. It seemed as though everything had fallen apart for her that night, but how badly?

It was Kimberly who spotted it first. A black Mercedes nosing through the parking lot at the top of the screen. Shiny under the lights, one occupant in the driver’s seat. The resolution of the tape didn’t allow us to see the registration number, but the dark, concave arc at the top told me what I needed to know. Either more diplomats than we thought liked slumming it in seedy nightclubs, or Tim had been out hunting for longer than we’d thought.

“Fuck.”

Kim squeezed my hand. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Who?” Wyatt asked.

Could it be true? Were the two cases connected? Georgette, Jacqueline, Kim… Emma would have come first, and there were differences. Emma had called a week later, to start with, and she’d also sent ongoing messages while the other two girls had never been heard from again. But there were also similarities. Both Emma and Georgette still used their debit cards, for example.

“I don’t know. But what are the chances of it all being a coincidence? We’re positive he’s taken girls from clubs before.”

Wyatt leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What are you guys talking about?”

“I’ve been investigating Kim’s case for the last couple of weeks, and we suspect it’s tied to the disappearances of two other girls—Georgette Riley and Jacqueline Springer, both of whom vanished from nightclubs. And the man who tried to drug Kim drove a black Mercedes with diplomatic plates.”

Now Wyatt wound the footage back and took a closer look at the parking lot.

“Shit, you’re right. That’s an embassy car. You really think it’s the same guy?”

“I can’t say for sure. But I do think it’s a possibility we can’t afford to ignore.”

CHAPTER 22 - KIMBERLY

MY HEAD FELT as if it were about to explode as Reed drove me home. Another girl taken by Tim, and this time, it was Emma Cullen? If Georgette hadn’t warned me, if I hadn’t jumped out of the car, I could have been the one lying cold in the ground somewhere, and nobody would have a clue there was a predator on the loose.

“How has Tim gone undetected for so long?” I asked.

“He picked his victims carefully. Georgette and Emma both had problems at home. When they disappeared, people assumed they needed space.”

Reed’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, and I knew he blamed himself for not looking harder. Wyatt had done the same thing back in his apartment. At one point, I thought he’d punch the wall in frustration.

“What about me? I wasn’t in a nightclub.”

“That, I’m not sure of. I guess if I were our guy, I’d vary my methodology after three abductions to avoid a pattern emerging. Or perhaps he just saw you and acted on impulse.”

“If I’d finished that drink five minutes earlier… Or if he hadn’t stopped at those lights… Or if—”

“Don’t. You escaped, and you’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you; I promise. I’ll sleep on your driveway tonight.”

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