The Perfect Couple (Last Stand #4)(50)
Author: Brenda Novak

"I don’t want to think about it."

"We’ve limited our efforts to the Rocklin area," he said.

"If we’re looking for the same man."

"We could be."

"Even so, it’s not as if the police will start searching houses."

"They can’t stop us from knocking on doors. It’s a small geographic area. And whoever took Toby has some privacy because he keeps his victims for a long time, which rules out Anton, Franky and your father, even if other information hadn’t already done so."

"We know three people it’s not. That’s supposed to make me happy?"

"Happy is a relative term. I’m telling you we’re better off today than we were yesterday. The fact that he hangs on to his victims, that he likes to play with them, tells us something about the type of person he is."

Frustrated because she couldn’t immediately locate her keys in the jumble of things she’d dumped in her purse, she dropped it in her lap and stared up at him. "That’s not enough. Did you see that boy?"

His eyes met hers. "He’s alive, Zoe."

"Barely. You might not be able to say that tomorrow. I’m willing to bet there were a lot of times over the past few weeks that he wished he was dead."

"My point is this abductor had him for more than two months. That’s an extraordinarily long time to keep a victim. Most stranger abductions end in death within the first few hours. I’ll have to check with Jasmine–"

"Jasmine?"

"Skye’s former partner. She’s one of the founders of The Last Stand and has become an excellent profiler. She got married not too long ago and moved to Louisiana, but she still does freelance work and consulting. I think she might be able to help us figure out what kind of individual we’re dealing with."

"’Master’ suggests a man."

"A sadistic man, as you said. But we need more information."

Zoe shrugged despairingly. "We’re not dealing with a man at all.

We’re dealing with a devil."

"But the particular type of devil he is means there’s hope that Sam’s still alive."

Zoe wasn’t feeling much hope at the moment, just a powerful thirst for vengeance. It was the only way to compensate for everything she’d lost, the only way to remain strong and keep fighting.

Grabbing her purse, she rummaged for her keys again. "I want Sam back. But even if I don’t get her back–" she looked up at him "–I won’t rest until this bastard’s in prison."

"We’ll catch him," he said.

Her fingers finally encountered her car keys. "The sooner the better."

"What are you planning to do today?"

She put the key in the ignition so she could roll down her window, and he stepped back and closed the door. "I’m going to the media." She’d been planning to solicit Skye’s help. Now she knew she didn’t need it. The Simpsons’ story provided more fodder for her own. "Then later I’m having dinner at the Bells’. What about you?" she asked.

"Your former neighbors?"

"Colin is putting together a search party for Saturday. We’ll be creating the routes."

Jonathan turned on his phone and winced at the number of calls he’d missed. He didn’t really have time to take on this case and yet, except for a brief meeting this morning, he’d wiped his schedule clean. Now he was further behind than ever. "I’m heading back to your old neighborhood to ask around some more. Because Sam was home by herself for so many days before she went missing, and wasn’t seen out and about, I think the kidnapper was someone close."

"But the police have approached everyone. You’ve already spoken to a lot of my neighbors, too. What good does talking do? Whoever it was won’t simply admit it."

"I know it seems like a long shot. But everything is. I’ll explain what happened to the Simpson boy, which will convince anyone who doubted the danger. Maybe they’ll remember some detail they didn’t consider significant before. You have to keep working the mine, Zoe."

"The first night I met you, you said Sam probably knew her abductor."

"I still believe that."

She shivered. "Then he has to be close…."

Leaning on her window ledge, he bent down to peer into her backseat.

"So are you coming over later?"

She started the engine. "No. I don’t even know where you live."

He took out his card, wrote on the back and handed it to her. "There’s a key under the mat if I’m not around."

"I’m not coming over," she said, but when she put his card in her purse, he offered her a knowing grin.

"The dog’s friendly."

"Jonathan, I don’t even know who I am anymore. I can’t get involved with anyone."

He straightened and stepped away so she could leave. "I have a spare bed."

The question was whether or not she’d use it….

Something was up. Samantha knew it instantly.

She’d expected Tiffany to be angry after their earlier fight, to follow through on her promise not to be nice. But here she was, with what appeared to be another treat. "Drink this," she said matter-of-factly and shoved a tall glass at her.

Sam relieved some of the tension in her collar, but she couldn’t widen it very much. The padlock made that impossible, or she would’ve slipped it over her head and gotten out of it. "What is it?" Was Tiffany going to kill her? Was she going to do it with poison?

"I don’t have time for this," Tiffany replied. "It’s better than dog food, okay? That’s all you need to know."

Sam took the glass because her stomach was growling too much to refuse it. The drink looked and smelled like a strawberry smoothie.

Strawberry was her favorite.

She dipped her tongue into the cool iciness. Delicious. But after dog food, Raid would probably taste good. "Why’d you make me this?" she asked.

"It has nothing to do with being friends. After this morning, we’re not friends."

Then there was another reason, and Sam could easily guess what that might be. The smoothie wasn’t necessarily poisoned, but there was some type of sleep medication in it. Likely the same stuff Colin had given her before. It was the only other time they’d brought her a drink other than the water in her bowl. It’d made her so tired she couldn’t even lift her arms.

If they weren’t trying to kill her, they wanted her to sleep. Why?

Her stomach growled as she eyed the glass. "Are you going out tonight?"

"That’s none of your freakin’ business, okay? I’m not going to forget how you treated me, you know."

Sam wasn’t sorry in the least, but she knew it would be smarter to pretend she was. "I should apologize for that. I–I was upset."