Allison Brennan - The Kill

He was also planning how best to kill Bruce. Because the only sure way they could escape Bruce was to make sure he was dead.

“What?” Certainly he had misunderstood Angel. He’d been lost in thought. “Talk to her about what?”

“What Daddy does to me. She’s very nice. She’ll help. I know she will. And you can come with me.”

“No. No. I told you I’d find a way.”

She shook her head, her big green eyes far older than her years, too sad for a child. “I can’t wait. I can’t wait anymore. I hurt all the time. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

“No.”

Chris opened his eyes, startled. Ten minutes had passed. It was nearly 4:45. He had to get into place.

He already wore gloves. Gathering his supplies, he silently slipped out of the truck. There was a mailbox partially covered by ivy and bushes. He’d already checked her route and knew this was the best place to take her. If he stood on the far side of the mailbox, no one would see him without walking straight toward him. He would wait for his angel. Wait and she would come right into his arms.

He pretended to mail a letter, just in case anyone happened by, then slid into his hiding place.

And waited.

He heard the flap-flap-flap of decorated spokes before he saw her.

He counted to three, then stepped out of hiding, right into her path.

As soon as Zack pulled out of the airport parking lot, his cell phone rang.

“Travis.”

“It’s Pierson. He has another one. Nina Markow, ten.”

“When?”

“Forty-five minutes ago, in the county. As soon as the first officers arrived and realized that the victim fit our profile, they contacted me.”

“Where? I’m already in the car.”

“Come back to the station. We have two witnesses and I have them working with different sketch artists. And we have a partial license plate on the truck that we’re running and should have a list within the hour.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He hung up.

“Another?”

“Forty-five minutes ago.”

Olivia closed her eyes. “I’d hoped we had more time.”

“Me, too. But now we have a name and there are two witnesses. A partial on the truck. Everyone’s working on this.”

“But can we find him before he kills her? Before he disappears?”

“I’m not going to let her die, Olivia. We’ll find her.”

We have to.

When Olivia and Zack walked into the police station, she felt like the world had stopped spinning on its axis, that time stood still, just for a moment.

FBI Special Agent Quinn Peterson sat at Zack’s desk talking to an elderly man while a sketch artist worked next to them.

Quinn looked up and caught her eye. He didn’t seem surprised to see her, but he didn’t seem happy, either. He said something to the man, then stood and walked over to them. As always, he was dressed impeccably.

“You must be Detective Travis,” Quinn said and extended his hand. “I’m Special Agent Quincy Peterson, Seattle FBI.”

They shook hands. “Zack Travis. My chief fill you in on the case?”

Quinn nodded. “I talked to him last night and again when I arrived this morning. He’s on the phone taking care of the politicians. So far the media hasn’t caught wind, so we don’t have that zoo yet. I have a bureau sketch artist working with Henry Jorge, Nina’s neighbor, who saw the abduction and got the partial off the truck. Your own sketch artist is waiting in a conference room for Nina’s friend to arrive with her parents. They should be here any minute.”

“What happened?”

“Nina Markow was riding her bike home from gymnastics. She practices every day after school. She turned onto her street and, according to Mr. Jorge, a man stepped out of the bushes right into the path of her bike. She swerved and fell. The man helped her up, then dragged her over to a white truck half a block away. He put his hand over her mouth and she couldn’t scream. Mr. Jorge ran after them, but he’s eighty-three. He couldn’t catch up before the truck drove off, though his eyesight was good enough to get a partial number off the rear plate and we’re running it now.”

“Pierson tell you we identified the killer? Christopher Driscoll.”

Quinn nodded. “Our people are pulling every string to get his military records, but it’s not easy. I did get his original military ID photo and the artist can take that with the descriptions from Mr. Jorge and Abby Vail, Nina’s friend who also witnessed the abduction, and come up with a good composite of what he looks like. We’ve brought in a couple of agents to help your team cover the car dealerships, rental agencies, airports, anyplace this guy could get a truck without suspicion.”

“Where’re the victim’s parents?”

“Her mother is single, a widow. She works out in the county, and a-” Quinn glanced at his notepad “-Detective Jan O’Neal went out to inform her and bring her down here. But with commuter traffic I don’t expect them for another thirty or so minutes.”

Quinn glanced at Olivia, then said, “Detective, do you mind if I have a word with Agent St. Martin? It won’t take long.”

“Use the conference room. I need to check in with my chief and I’ll get you when the witness comes in. Call me Zack.”

Quinn nodded. “Thanks. I’m Quinn.”

He put his hand in the small of Olivia’s back as he steered her toward the conference room, shutting the door behind them.

“What the hell have you been doing?” Quinn said, obviously trying to temper long-simmering anger. “Have you lost your mind?”

“I can explain.”

“You’d better start talking. When I came here this morning and found out that Agent St. Martin had been a vital part of this investigation, I couldn’t imagine it was you. ‘Olivia St. Martin?’ I asked. Chief Pierson sang your praises and told me you were in Redwood City interviewing Brian Hall!”

“I didn’t-I told Zack about Missy. I told him I couldn’t be in the room with Hall, he probably wouldn’t take my presence very well, and I didn’t want to jeopardize the case.”

“Jeopardize the case! Hell, Olivia, you’re not an agent! You’ve already jeopardized the case.”

“Like hell I have!” Olivia swallowed, surprised at her outburst. “Quinn,” she said, trying to remain calm, but her frustration and anger were closer to the surface than she thought. “I went through the proper channels. I went to Rick Stockton and showed him what I’d put together on these cases. Yes, I knew it was circumstantial, but there was so much of it! I couldn’t just not do anything! And when he said his hands were tied, there was nothing he could do, he couldn’t send a team out to help, I didn’t have a choice.”

“You’ve always had a choice. You could have called me . You know I would bend over backward to help you. Anytime, anyplace.”

She took a deep breath, her heart tight. “I know. I know you would have. But don’t you understand? My testimony put an innocent man behind bars.”

“You don’t know Hall wasn’t involved.”

“No, I don’t know , but I believe he wasn’t. Zack and I talked it through and neither of us thinks Driscoll has a partner. The attacks are too personal, too intimate.” She paused. “And Hall is too stupid.”

“Olivia-”

“Hear me out. I had to do something. I had to get the information about Driscoll’s killing spree in the right hands. I had to talk to someone on the case, walk them through the evidence. They wouldn’t have listened to me; I’m a lab scientist!”