“There’s water behind the cabin. The bayou snakes and twists all the way back here.”
Anthony’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “If our guy has a boat, then that’s how he was able to get from that damn cabin to here.”
He pushed the accelerator down even more. He swung the vehicle around some trees, then slammed on the brakes.
The sedan was abandoned, its trunk up, not ten feet away.
Anthony jumped from his SUV. His vehicle’s headlights lit up the scene as he advanced toward the Oldsmobile. His gun was gripped tightly in his right hand.
If he’d seen Walker right then, Anthony thought he might have shot the bastard on sight.
But Walker wasn’t there. Neither was Lauren.
The car was empty so that meant Walker had left on foot—with Lauren. Both Wesley and Anthony began to search the ground with their flashlights. The dark made it harder to notice any telltale tracks on the ground. Anthony yanked out his phone, calling Matt and ordering that the K-9 unit be brought into the area. They needed the tracking dogs.
To rush off on foot, Walker had to be close.
“Blood!” Wesley called out.
Anthony’s body tensed. His flashlight lit on the same spot Wesley had found. Sure enough, he saw the spray of red in the illumination from his light.
Lauren was hurt.
“The blood goes to the left.” Wesley was already following the faint trail. He had his gun gripped in his left hand. “The cabin is back that way.”
“Then let’s get the hell there, now.” He couldn’t stand the thought of her suffering. I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.
Their feet thudded over the earth as they followed the blood trail toward the cabin.
She’s alive. She’s alive. The words played through Anthony’s head again and again. Lauren had to be alive. For him, there wasn’t any alternative. Because if he burst through that cabin door and she was dead—
He didn’t know what he would do.
She’s alive. She has to be alive…
He’d handcuffed her. The cabin was stocked with duct tape, handcuffs, and knives. Walker had planned out this moment, and now she knew he was going to kill her.
He’d thrust her into a chair, yanked her handcuffed hands behind her, and duct-taped her ankles to the wobbly chair legs. The only light in the old cabin came from a lantern near his feet. His shirt had a dark shadow sweeping over it—his blood, not that he seemed to care he was bleeding.
He barely seemed to notice his wound. He was too fixated on her.
“I want to take my time with you.” His words were whispered and made the goose bumps on her arms rise even more. “I thought about you…” He picked up a knife. The guy had a whole set of knives, just waiting. “Thought all about what I’d do to you…”
“The cops are searching for me now!” Lauren yelled. She wasn’t going to beg him. Wouldn’t give him that pleasure. “You’re about to find yourself tossed back into a cage again, only you won’t ever escape this time! You’ll be in for life, you’ll—”
He pressed the tip of the knife against her cheek. It sliced into her, and she felt the wet roll of blood on her skin, heavier and warmer than a teardrop could ever be.
“Do I want to start with your face?” Walker asked musingly. “Or your body?”
Don’t beg. Don’t cry. She wouldn’t, no matter what happened. “What the hell happened to you, Walker? How did you wind up this way? You had a normal home, good parents…” She’d done her research. He’d had a great home life, even parents who’d sent him to therapy once they’re realized their boy was…different. The therapist had signed off on Jon after awhile, saying the guy was fine. Perfect mental health. Bullshit. The guy had just been a good actor, perfect at pretending there wasn’t a monster inside of him. “Why the hell are you like this?”
He smiled at her, and the sight nearly stopped her heartbeat. Jon Walker was a handsome man, almost boyish in appearance. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like any southern boy—a guy who spent his time chasing women and cheering for his football team.
The guy had even played quarterback in his high school days. Been the freaking prom king.
Now he was…this?
“I had to be shown my true calling,” he said. The tip of the knife lifted from her cheek but she didn’t take a relieved breath. She was too worried about where that knife would go next. “I was lost, until he found me.”
He?
Walker’s eyes narrowed on her and even through the shadows, she could see the hate that hardened the faint lines on his face. “You sent me away.”
“Because you killed! You cut up women—you tossed their bodies away like garbage! You deserved to be in jail!” She actually thought the guy deserved to rot in hell, but she managed to bite that part back. The knife was far too close for that kind of outburst.
“You took me away…” Now the knife was on her arm, and this time, the slice was deep. She bit into her lower lip, sinking her teeth into it even as the blade sliced into her arm. The blood wasn’t like a teardrop this time. Instead, it pulsed out, hot and heavy. “You took me away from what I needed most.”
“You did that to yourself when you…” Oh, it hurt… “Decided to…kill…”
The blade came out of her arm on a slow, bloody, painful glide.
“I stared at your picture. Thought of all the things I was going to do to you…” The bloody knife’s tip slid over her shirt, just above her breast. “Before I’m through, you’re gonna look like a jigsaw puzzle.”
She nearly vomited.
He was bent over her. So close. She let her head sag forward as if she were afraid. He came even closer, laughing at her fear.
She jerked up her head, catching him in the chin. Ramming into him. Swearing, he stumbled back. She twisted her body, and the chair crashed to the floor.
“Fuckin’ bitch!”
She’d hoped the chair would break when she fell. It hadn’t. And now the knife was at her throat.
Lauren froze.
“You think you’re so fuckin’ brave, don’t you?”
No, she didn’t. She was so scared she couldn’t even speak. One slice, and he’d cut open her jugular. She’d be dead. She’d bleed out on the dirty floor, and every dream she’d ever had would be over.
“Do you think…” The blade nicked her throat. Just a nick. He was taunting her. “Do you think your sister was so brave?”
Lauren’s gaze flew up to him.
“I know,” he whispered and he was smiling. “All those secrets you carry…I know.”
She tried to jerk her legs free of the duct tape. Her shoulders were burning because her arms were pinned behind her, but she had to get free.
“Jennifer Chandler…they never found her, did they?” She’d broken his nose with her head butt and blood dripped down into his grin. “Not that there was much left to find of dear Jenny…”
“Shut up!” The scream tore from her, making her throat feel raw. She ignored the pain. Rage was pumping through her blood and pushing every other feeling away. “Stop!”
“That’s what Jenny said, too. She was crying, begging…”
No, it wasn’t possible. He was just trying to make her break. Trying to hurt her more. There was no way Walker had killed her sister.
Was there?
Walker’s first victim had been Beth Loxley, a freshman at LSU. She’d been the first reported missing, the first they’d tied to the Bayou Butcher.