Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The old, decrepit farmhouse loomed in the distance, its silhouette dark and foreboding against the cloudy gray sky. Lieutenant Campbell McCoy's knuckles were white with tension as he gripped the steering wheel and turned down the long gravel driveway.

He pulled to a stop in front of the house and scanned the exterior. The lawn was overgrown, machinery and discarded trash littering the tall grass. The paint on the house was peeling, and several broken windows had been covered with newspaper and duct tape.

"Nice place," Sawyer said, his tone wry.

"The Cottrells lived here as long as I can remember," Cam said as he put the transmission in park. "Wade was the last of them, at least locally."

Sawyer turned his way. "Think it's empty?"

"I sure as hell hope so." But one never knew what Wade was into at any given time. It was far better to be alert, especially given the events of the past twenty-four hours.

Yesterday morning, Lindsey Gill had been abducted from her home on the west side of Brookhaven. Shortly afterward, Ainsley Layne and her sister, Kinley, had been attacked in Kinley's home.

The oldest Layne sister, Ainsley, had recently moved back to Brookhaven to be close to her family after leaving her abusive boyfriend. Suspecting that something wasn't quite right, Sheriff Dare Jensen had rented her the live-in suite at his home where she would be safe under his watch. Naturally, Ainsley's ex, Dr. Joel Parsons, didn't take kindly to her leaving. For weeks he'd hunted her, even going so far as to kill her friend to draw Ainsley out into the open.

The sheriff's office had been called to the scene when Lindsey was abducted, and Ainsley had gone to Kinley's house to pass the time. The police could only speculate that Parsons had followed Ainsley to Kinley's house, where he'd knocked her unconscious before attacking Ainsley. Things hadn't worked out as planned.

Unbeknownst to anyone, Wade Cottrell had his eye on Ainsley as well. Several years ago, Dare had shot and killed Wade's older brother, Beau, when the man had fired on him after a traffic stop. Wade had apparently held a grudge and saw an opportunity for revenge when Ainsley and Dare began to date.

Wade had broken in through the back door, then killed Parsons before going after Ainsley himself. By a stroke of sheer luck, Cam and Dare had shown up just minutes later. Dare, upon walking in the on the scene, had killed the man in question before he could hurt Ainsley further.

It was a tangled web of deceit, with several innocent women caught in the crossfire. Ainsley and Kinley had been admitted to the hospital with their injuries, and Lindsey Gill was still missing. Coupled with the recent murder, it was almost enough to push Cam over the edge.

Just a few weeks ago, Jayla Simms had been found dead in the center of Brookhaven, her body posed on a park bench. Initially, they'd speculated that the perp who'd killed Jayla Simms had abducted Lindsey. But now Cam wondered if it had all been a diversion. Wade and Joel both intended to draw Ainsley away from Dare. Had one of them abducted Lindsey to distract the police?

They slid from the car and approached the house cautiously, eyes and ears alert. Cam wouldn't put anything past Wade, and he refused to let down his guard despite the fact that the man was dead.

Dodging splintered, rotting boards, Cam climbed the steps to the porch, one eye tuned to the windows, watching for movement. Standing off to the side the front door, he gave a hard knock. "Sheriff's Department. Open up."

A heavy silence followed, and Cam knocked again, calling out louder this time. "This is Lt. Campbell McCoy with the Brookhaven Sheriff's Department."

When no one responded, he leaned forward to peer through the single pane of glass in the door. It was dingy, covered in dust and grime, making it almost impossible to see inside.

He signaled for Sawyer to take the back while he entered through the front. Cam grasped the doorknob, surprised when it twisted easily beneath his fingers. He gave a push, but the swollen wood refused to budge. Leaning all of his weight into it, the door resisted for several seconds before finally giving way with a loud groan. It swung inward, listing limply on rusted hinges that had pulled halfway out of the wall.

Sawyer's lips pressed into a firm line as he stepped inside, the beam of his flashlight already sweeping the interior. The putrid scent of dirty clothes and rotten food assaulted his nostrils, and he gagged, his eyes watering. He fought it back as he moved deeper into the house, stepping carefully around piles of clothing mixed with discarded trash. Flies buzzed noisily, and he swatted one away as it landed on his shoulder.

"Anyone here?" he called out.

There was no answer, and a moment later, Sawyer appeared in the doorway across from him. "Kitchen's a fucking mess, but it's clear." A scowl tugged at his lips and he shook his head. "Jesus Christ. Doesn't look much better in here, either."

Cam shook his head. "I don't know how you'd find anything in this shithole."

Sawyer tipped his head toward the stairs. "I'm going to check up here. You got the basement?"

Cam nodded and picked his way through the downstairs, checking every room on the ground floor until he found the door that led to the basement. Cobwebs clung to the switch on the wall, and he brushed them away before flicking the switch. Nothing. Cam rolled his eyes. Of course it wouldn't work.

Leveling his flashlight in front of him, he carefully descended the rickety stairs, the ancient wood bowing precariously under his weight. At the bottom of the stairs, he breathed out a silent sigh of relief and swept the beam of light over the room, scanning for any sign of Lindsey.

"Find anything?" Sawyer's voice crackled through the radio.

"Negative." His gaze landed on an old metal shelving unit filled with various implements, broken glass jars, and cans of food that were beginning to rust. "You?"

"Just a lot of junk and old furniture."

Cam continued his search, his flashlight sliding over the walls and floors, revealing nothing but years of neglect and decay. The air was damp and musty, filled with the scent of mildew and rot, and water had pooled on the floor in places. He carefully navigated around the cluttered space, checking behind old shelves and inside dusty cabinets.

Suddenly, his flashlight caught the glint of something large and white tucked away in a corner. Pulse racing, Cam drifted toward an ancient chest freezer that had seen better days. Bracing himself, Cam grasped the lid and lifted, shining the flashlight inside.

Stale air assaulted him, but the freezer was empty, and the oxygen rushed from his lungs on a relieved exhale. Dropping the lid back into place, he reached over and pressed the button on the radio.

"Basement's clear. Nothing down here," he reported, more than a little frustrated.

"Copy that. I'm finishing up the second floor," Sawyer replied. "Meet you out front."

Cam propped his hands on his hips and glared at the basement. He had hoped for a clue, a sign—anything to indicate Lindsey's whereabouts. But Wade Cottrell's house was a dead end.

Cam met Sawyer back on the front porch, and the detective ran a hand through his cropped dark hair with a scowl. "Place is clean. No sign of her at all."

"It's a long shot, but let's check Parsons's place." The doctor had lived more than an hour away, but they couldn't afford to waste any more time here. The clock was ticking, and every second counted.

As they climbed into the cruiser, Cam tossed one last look at the house, dread twisting in the pit of his stomach. If Wade hadn't taken her… who had?