Great. “We’re on the way.” He hung up, took a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions, then shot to his feet.
His partner, Martin Sands, looked up. “What now? More stuff with Zoe?”
Marty was the one person Holt felt comfortable venting to about his sister and her confession to killing her husband two years ago—and the fact that he believed she did it. He ignored the shame that tried to creep in every time he thought about her. He should be turning over every rock to find evidence to the contrary, but the truth was, he believed his sister guilty of murder. Why work to prove her innocence when all the evidence and her own words said the effort would be a waste of time?
“No, she’s on the back burner for now. The Lothario Killer and his girlfriend are on the loose. You and I are now officially back on the task force to recapture him.”
“What? You’re kidding me. How?”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
Martin followed him out the door, muttering his displeasure. Holt let him vent while he concentrated on how best to catch the man. Again. It hadn’t been easy the first time.
Darius would be even smarter—and he had his girlfriend helping him this time. However, he was one day out of surgery. How far could he get? Then again, the fact that he’d managed to kill three people in spite of being on drugs and, most likely, in pain, sent dread coursing through him. Holt knew better than anyone just how resourceful the killer was, and he had the scar to prove it. His hand went to the area just below the edge of his vest on his left side, but he didn’t need to touch the place to know what was there. The nightmares reminded him most nights.
They headed for the chopper while thunder boomed in the distance. It wasn’t raining yet, but it was ready to start at any moment. The pilot nodded to them and soon they were in the air headed toward the mountain. Thirty minutes later, he slid into the driver’s seat of the Bureau’s waiting sedan and checked the weather app on his phone. “This is going to be a fun drive. It’s cold and icy and storm warnings are everywhere.”
“We’ve driven through worse. Right?”
True, but he didn’t like it any more than Marty did—and Marty really hated bad weather. Holt’s phone dinged again. “Command center is on the way, too. We’ll meet them there.”
They drove through the blowing wind and rain with Holt fighting to keep the vehicle on the road. Across the street, at the base of the mountain, the mobile command center had already been set up in the elementary school parking lot. Holt ducked into the customized motorhome and shook the water out of his hair. Marty entered behind him. Seated in front of the first computer to Holt’s left was Julianna Jameson. “Jules? What brings you here? He hasn’t taken any hostages, has he?”
“Not yet.”
Julianna was one of the Bureau’s most skilled negotiators with the Crisis Negotiation Unit. She was also one of his favorite people with her quick wit and dry humor. However, she usually didn’t go into the field unless the situation called for it.
“I was in the area doing some training. When I got word about the situation, I hightailed it over here. I’m here as a precaution,” she said. “Local cops are swarming the area in spite of the weather. There are six small neighborhoods spaced out along the road that leads to the top of the mountain. There are two cop cars assigned to each one. One at the entrance and one that’s driving a constant loop.”
“What about the houses that don’t have neighborhoods or fences or alarm systems?”
“We’ve activated the reverse 911 and officers are going door to door and asking residents to phone everyone they can think of to warn them, but it’s definitely possible someone will be missed.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s not all. We’ve gotten word that a Medevac chopper made an emergency landing about an hour ago in a clearing on top of the mountain and Gerald asked me to be on site just in case Darius manages to get there first.”
“Oh no.” He took a seat opposite her.
She studied him. “It’s Penny and her crew, Holt. They’ve got a fifteen-year-old patient in pretty serious shape.”
Holt raked a hand through his hair. Penny, Holly, and Raina had been the ones to save his life eighteen months ago. He and Penny had hit it off and had gone out a few times after he’d recovered. While their relationship was only at a friendship-but-could-possibly-be-more stage—and had been for longer than he liked—their schedules hadn’t allowed more than brief dinners and short conversations on the phone. But he cared about Penny. A lot.
Penny and Julianna were tight friends, sharing a past that he still didn’t know all the details of. “All right, then we need to head that way and get them down off that mountain. If Rabor or Shondra run into them . . .”
“Yeah. And unfortunately, they’re not answering the attempts to contact them. The emergency locator beacon is the only thing they have to go on right now.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“This storm is only going to get worse in the next little while,” Julianna said. “Hopefully, we can get up there and get to them before too much longer.”
“We?” Julianna wouldn’t normally do something like that, but since it was Penny . . .
“I’m going with you.” She narrowed her eyes. “There’s a killer up there. And so are Penny and the others. If he manages to grab one of them . . .”
“Yeah.”
“I need to be there.”
“I agree,” Holt said. “Rabor knows we’re on his tail and is going to be looking for someone he can use as leverage. I don’t want to give him that opportunity.”
She nodded. “Exactly.”
With practiced movements, they gathered their gear, satellite phones, and rain ponchos and headed back out into the storm.
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is never a solitary event. I often get asked how I come up with my stories, and while they all come from my imagination, I always have help creating them. I have a group of brainstormers who are amazing and talented people. Whenever I need help figuring out the plot, the characterization, the whatever, I can simply send out an email, asking for help. You know who you are, and I am forever indebted to you.
Speaking of being forever indebted . . . I can’t thank former FBI Special Agents Wayne Smith and Dru Wells for all of your input into my stories. I learn so much from you EVERY SINGLE TIME. It’s often overwhelming, all of the information that could go into the books, so thank you for keeping it accurate and yet manageable at the same time. You guys are simply amazing.
I need to give a shout-out to Officer Jason Fort, who is always my “go to” for hospital security. You’ve helped me in several books, and I thank you for your willingness to take the time out of your busy schedule to answer my questions.
Thank you to the Revell team. You guys are phenomenal, and I consider it an honor to work with you all—from cover designers to beta readers. But most especially Barb and her tireless efforts to find all of my mistakes. :) I definitely couldn’t do this without you. So, remember, you’re not allowed to retire until I do!
I’m sending a big hug and thanks to my amazing and brilliant agent, Tamela Hancock Murray of the Steve Laube Agency. You’ve become a wonderful friend and I love you dearly. Thank you for all your hard work on my behalf.