She couldn’t accuse another innocent man.
MICHAEL CHECKED Hannah’s place. No Lilith. She wasn’t at the club, either. Joe told him about Caresse, how Lilith had found her.
His stomach as heavy as if he’d ingested a ton of lead, he headed straight for the hospital emergency room. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what Lilith had been up to. He’d known she was Hannah’s sister from the start. And he’d checked her out after she’d started working at the club. He’d known she was trying to draw out the killer. He’d admired that. And he’d known the danger she was drawing to herself.
The more he’d gotten to know Lilith, the more he’d admired her. He’d never before met a woman with such conviction. A woman who was so brave. The more he’d gotten to know her, the less he’d liked what she was doing. He’d tried to talk her out of it, had tried to convince her to quit the club.
He’d be damned if he didn’t try again.
She might not want to listen to him after seeing the interview with her sister, but he was going to tell her everything she wanted to know. And then he was going to try to talk her into leaving the investigation to the police.
Finally in the ER, he went straight to the desk. “I’m looking for Lilith Mitchell. She’s a friend of the woman from Club Paradise who was knifed. Caresse something.”
“Her name is Carrie Walker.” This from a crusty-looking man in a rumpled suit. He’d been talking to a nurse. Now he indicated she should go, and he turned his narrow-gazed attention to Michael. “What do you want with Lilith Mitchell?”
“What business is it of yours?”
The man pulled out a leather holder and flipped it open to show his star. “Detective John Pucinski.”
Michael took a deep breath. He wasn’t liking this. Where in the hell was Lilith?
“I’m a friend concerned for her safety.”
“And why would that be?”
“I know why she got a job at the club.” Figuring Pucinski knew, too, Michael added, “I know about her sister.”
“She tell you all this?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter how I know. I’m worried about her. She left my place without telling me, so I went to the club to make sure she was okay. The bartender told me what happened and that she followed the ambulance here.”
“You missed her by less than five minutes. You know she’s been putting herself at risk at that club.”
Michael’s gut churned. “I tried to get her to quit. She wouldn’t listen to me. I can only imagine how desperate she is to find her sister Hannah and some kid named Carmen before it’s too late. She left here. I fear she’s doing something to find them on her own. Something really crazy.”
WHEN LILITH arrived at Gabe’s house, she didn’t see his car anywhere. The house itself was dark inside. Good. She waited in the Jaguar for a few minutes to see if anything would change.
No lights.
No movement.
No car pulling up.
As a matter of fact, no one was on the street.
Closing her eyes for a second, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had to do this. Had to find out if Gabe had Hannah and Carmen before it was too late. Had to see if there was proof of his crimes somewhere in the house. Then she could call Pucinski and tell him to arrest the bastard.
“I can do this,” she whispered fiercely. “I CAN DO THIS!”
Another breath and she got out of the car. Looking around carefully, she crossed the parkway and the sidewalk and took the gangway to the rear of the house. As she went, she checked the basement windows. No lights. No way in. When she got to the backyard, she stared into the night in every direction to see if anyone else was around. No one she could see.
Tires squealed nearby, making her jump.
A couple of teenagers out front were laughing.
In the distance, a siren howled.
Then, all grew quiet.
Her stomach was in a knot, but she had to get inside.
Heart hammering, she took one last, furtive look around before popping a glass pane in the door panel. Then she reached inside the opening and unlocked the door. She hesitated a second, listening hard for any sign of life inside.
Silence.
Hardly able to swallow the tension thickening in her throat, she slipped into the rear vestibule. Clicked on her flashlight. Prowled on silent feet. She’d made a quick run home to change into dark workout clothes, a jacket with a hoodie and rubber-soled running shoes. Though certain she was alone in the house, she tried not to make a noise. Just in case.
Half-entering a bedroom, she flashed her beam around. Empty. Down the hall, another bedroom. Equally empty. Across the hall, a bathroom.
Now what?
Seeing an open door and stairs on the other side, she descended into the basement and swung her flashlight in a big arc.
The beam caught the glow of glass eyes, making Lilith start. A stuffed animal head loomed over her, and next to it were others. Below them, a case held weapons — rifles and shotguns and knives. Gabe had said he was a hunter. She’d never seen such a collection, though her stepfather had been a hunter, as well.
As a teenager living in a small southern Illinois town, she’d learned all about guns. She used to fantasize about using one on Marlon, but the only things she’d ever shot had been pop bottles and cans. She would never use one on another human being.
Then she spotted the framed black and white photographs.
“My God! You son-of-a-bitch!”
Lilith flashed her beam to find the light switch on the wall, flipped it on so she could better see the five framed photographs. The first was Gabe’s wife… next, the two murdered women… then Hannah… and finally, the other ripped half of her photo taken from the club.
She was next on his list.
The realization made her go cold inside.
She’d known the killer was dangerous, that he might strike out if she got too close.
This was worse. She had become part of his plan.
She thought of everyone who’d warned her not to do this. Elena. Caresse. Pucinski. Michael. Even Gabe himself. And she hadn’t listened, not to any of them. Now she had a bull’s-eye on her back.
Not that she could stop.
She was thinking that, if only she could find where Gabe was holding Hannah and Carmen, she could leave the rest to the police, when she spotted a mahogany and glass case snugged against the wall. There on the middle shelf was the mate to the heart-half she wore — Hannah’s half.
Absolute proof that he had her sister.
Her gaze moved up to the souvenirs of the two women he’d killed. Disbelieving, she tasted bile for the second time that night.
The papers hadn’t said anything about this. The police must have held back information. She wondered if Gabe’s father would be proud of the way his son had taken to those hunting skills.
Detective Gabriel O’Malley had skinned his victims.
Chunks of long dark hair still attached to their scalps told her exactly what he planned to do to Hannah. And what about Carmen?
Neither was here, so where had he stashed them?
Hand shaking, she pulled out her cell to alert Pucinski. The call went straight to voice mail. Before the greeting was finished so that she could leave a message, she heard a real-life noise.
Above her, a door slammed.
“Gabe,” she whispered, suddenly terrified that he might catch her.
She dropped the call and turned down the ringer volume. Stuck the cell back into her pocket.
Floorboards overhead creaked.
Trying not to panic, she snapped off the light just as she heard the first footsteps on the stairs.
Her legs shook as she slid into the basement’s interior and plastered herself in the shadows surrounding the boiler. Hiding from him gave her time to think. To plot. She could jump him, maybe knock him out, but then she might never be able to find Hannah and Carmen. She hadn’t found anything to indicate where Gabe had stashed them.