SIXTY

5 A.M.

‘Thanks for coming, Mitch,’ she said as the techie got out of his van.

‘I didn’t disturb anyone. I was in the spare room anyway.’

‘Why’s that?’ she asked innocently.

He offered her a glare before switching to work mode. ‘So, what am I looking at?’

‘We were hoping you could tell us that,’ Kim said.

Although there was no body in the space, the amount of blood on both the floor and the table she recognised from the video was troubling.

‘It’s a lot,’ Mitch said, scratching his beard.

She held her breath.

‘But not enough, in my opinion. Step aside,’ he instructed.

They did as he asked while he took another look.

‘Stand there,’ he said to Kim, pointing at a spot a couple of metres away. ‘And you there,’ he said to Bryant. ‘Shine everything you have at the ground,’ he said.

Kim pointed her phone torch, and Bryant pointed both his phone and his pocket torch.

Mitch then produced a torch that put them both to shame. All the focussed light brought the ground alive. Despite the weeds and filth, Kim was sure she could have spotted a decent-sized needle.

‘There we go,’ Mitch said, taking a couple of steps forward. ‘Blood spots. I’d say your guy parked here and moved your victim into a vehicle. At that point, he was still alive.’

‘Thank God for?—’

‘Don’t celebrate too soon. That level of blood loss and the fact he was still bleeding doesn’t bode well for the poor fellow. If he’s still alive, without medical help, he’s not going to stay like that for very long.’

Why, why, why did their sicko still want Hiccup alive? Had the poor soul not suffered enough?

What the hell did he have planned for him next?