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  She closed her eyes, mustering strength from deep inside, the vitriol of everything that had happened threatening to overwhelm her. Hannah had said she had to be strong. For Sara. For Jasmine. And while she knew that Hannah was right, she wasn’t so sure suddenly that she could actually pull it off.

  Ashamed at her own weakness, she squared her shoulders and headed for the front door. It was a heck of a lot easier to be brave when you had company. She reached out to release the deadbolt on the door, surprised to find that it was already unlocked.

  For a moment, caution reared its head, but as she paused indecisively, she realized that Reid wouldn’t have locked the door if he was on the outside. She was just having a moment. A justifiable one, certainly, but that didn’t mean she needed to invent problems where there were none. Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she turned the knob, surprised when the door didn’t immediately open.

  Frowning now, she put her weight into it, surprised when it suddenly gave, swinging inward just as the lights in the apartment went dark, something heavy hitting the floor—faint light from the corridor illuminating the entryway. Her voice froze in her throat, her stomach twisting into a knot as her brain telegraphed what lay across her foot.

  A body—Reid’s body.

  Swallowing a scream, she ran forward but tripped, the momentum sending her sprawling across the floor. Something sticky coated her palms, and as she lifted her hand, the metallic smell of blood filled her nostrils. Her stomach threatened full revolt, and she choked back bile.

  Self-preservation kicked in and she tried to scramble to her feet, but the floor was slick and it was difficult to find purchase. Heart threatening to break through her chest, Tina pushed up again, still fighting for balance, and this time she won. But she hesitated on the threshold of the front door, trying to decide the best course of action.

  Behind her was a phone. In front of her freedom. Each option tantalizing in its potential reward. But in the end, freedom seemed the better course. Taking precious seconds, she bent to search the body with shaking fingers, her mind assuring her that Reid was long gone. She reached in his pockets and felt carefully under his body. There was no sign of his cellphone, but his gun was still in its holster, and she pulled it free, not certain that she could actually use it, but feeling stronger just holding it in her hand.

  She stepped into the hallway, pressing herself against the wall, praying to be invisible as she strained in the dark for some sign of the intruder. She had no doubt he was out there somewhere—waiting for her to make the first move. Hunter and prey.

  She swallowed and pushed away from the wall, taking the hallway on a sprint, focusing her attention on the stairs at the end of the corridor. They were lined with windows that opened out onto the front of the building. Just above where the men were stationed outside the door. If she could get the window open and scream—surely they’d hear her and come running. If they were still alive, the little voice in her head whispered, and she stumbled.

  This time, however, she managed to keep her balance, to keep going. The head of the staircase was in sight now. Just a few more feet. She could actually see the light from the windows illuminating the stairs.

  Then suddenly the light was gone, the door to the stairway slamming shut, the echo filling the corridor, the harsh ringing sounding a death knell.

  Blood pounding in her ears, she whirled around, heading back the way she’d come, still gripping Reid’s gun, praying for a miracle. The deserted building had seemed like a sanctuary with Reid alive and protecting her. But now, it seemed like a prison. A tomb. And she pushed herself faster, heading back to the apartment. If the killer was behind her and she could make it to the apartment and lock the door—

  She fought the urge to turn and look, instead concentrating on the end of the hall. Three doors more. She passed the first and then the second, and then just as she reached the apartment, a shadow loomed out from the darkness behind her, a hand closing around her hair, yanking her backward. With panic driving, she jerked the other way, knowing that her hair was ripping away at the skull, the pain a price worth paying if it bought her freedom.

  For a moment, she felt the pressure lessen, and she sprang forward, still intent on gaining the safety of the apartment, but he was faster, his hand closing on her arm. Desperate, she lifted the gun, her finger closing around the trigger, fear overriding any hesitation. And with a muffled curse, she fired, bracing herself for the recoil. But there was nothing. The gun was empty.

  The killer had set her up. This was all part of the game.

  Rage rose hot and bitter inside her, and she swung out, striking him with the gun. But the blow glanced off his shoulder, and with a roar of anger, he slammed her back against the wall, her head hitting the plaster so hard it cracked beneath the blow. Pinned there, she could feel his breath against her skin, his fingers digging into her shoulders as she struggled against him.

  “It’s no use,” he whispered. “You belong to me now.”

  Her heart twisted, even as she continued to fight, knowing intuitively that he was right and the battle already lost. He covered her face with something cool and sweet smelling, and she tried to turn her head, to find some way to jerk free, but the chemical was already taking effect, her mind starting to swim, the edges of consciousness going fuzzy.

  She thought about Roger. And Hannah. Feeling as though she’d somehow let them down. That if she’d only been a little bit faster or smarter, she’d have found a way to escape. But her thoughts were growing scrambled because suddenly it was Reid she’d failed. Reid and Jasmine.

  She’d wondered how her friend had felt when facing certain death. And now, it looked as if she was about to find out.

  “I feel like it’s right here in front of us, and we’re just missing it,” Hannah said, pushing back from her dining room table and the computer screen she and Harrison had been studying.

  They’d been at it for what seemed like hours. Studying the photos the killer had left for her, the footage from the videos, the crime scene evidence, the autopsy reports, and everything else they’d collected in the process of the investigation. But there was nothing new. Nothing to give them any idea where Walker had gone or where he might strike next.

  “It’s late,” Harrison said, his eyes dark with worry. “You need to get some rest.”

  “There’s no way I can possibly get any sleep. Not with that bastard out there taunting us. Besides, every time I close my eyes, I see Sara and Jasmine—and what he did to them.” She shuddered, tilting back her head, fighting tears. “I just feel so helpless.”

  “I know. It’s part of what gives him power. Knowing that we’re always one step behind. But he’s going to make a mistake, Hannah. We’re going to catch him.”

  “I wish to hell I believed that,” she said, shaking her head as she let the sound of Harrison’s voice wash over her. Despite the severity of the situation, there was comfort in having him close. Just listening to the rhythm of his breathing made her feel calmer somehow. Helped her to keep focus.

  She blew out a breath and pulled her chair back up to the table, her eyes back on the computer. “I just keep thinking that we’ll find something. That he’s left us a clue that we just haven’t seen. I mean everything points to his wanting us to find him. Right?”

  “I don’t know,” Harrison said, shaking his head. “I thought so in the beginning. But now, I just feel like he’s toying with us. Getting off watching us chase our tails.”

  “Maybe,” she conceded. “But if Tracy’s right he’s also letting himself fall into the fantasy. Letting the killings build into something more. A craving of some kind. Which means he’s not going to stop. It’s like an alcoholic taking just one drink—it’s never enough.”

  “So do you want to go through all of this stuff again?” Harrison asked, frowning down at the scattered reports and photographs.

  “No,” Hannah said, pushing away from the table again, her mind made up. “I want to go see Tina. May
be there’s something else she’s remembered. Something that we overlooked the first time. Besides, she’s alone, and I’m guessing she’ll be happy for the company.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, not looking particularly pleased at the suggestion. “I wasn’t kidding. It really is late. Surely she’ll be asleep by now.”

  “Seriously? Jasmine was Tina’s best friend. If I can’t close my eyes, you can be damned certain that she isn’t sleeping either.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, then clearly thought better of it. “All right. We’ll go over there.”

  “You don’t have to come.”

  “Hannah, I’m not letting you go out there on your own, even if you are armed to the teeth.” He nodded to the gun she was slipping into her holster. “We’re in this together—remember?”

  A sliver of heat shot through her as their gazes collided, the little voice in her head reminding her that the connection was situational. That she shouldn’t let herself come to count on him. Better to hold on to her heart. It was safer that way.

  “Okay, fine,” she said, turning her back, the effort costing her as she forced her attention back to the situation at hand. “We’ll go together. But I think we should go now.”

  “All right then, let’s go.” He reached for his jacket and gun, and Hannah had the fleeting thought that Harrison Blake was the kind of man a woman would be a fool to throw away.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were walking across the quad toward the administration building. The night sky was moonless, the stars burning pinpoints in the black-velvet sky. The trees moved in silent undulation as the cold wind whispered through the branches. The air was crisp, the smell of dying leaves punctuating the soft smell of wood smoke from somewhere nearby.

  The upper floor of the building was dark, and for a moment, Hannah hesitated. Harrison had clearly been right. Tina was sleeping. And the idea of waking her to rehash the horror seemed unnecessarily cruel. But then a flicker of something against one of the upper-floor windows sent a shiver of dread coursing through her. Right or wrong, she needed to see Tina. Make certain that she was really safe.

  If nothing else, she’d just talk to Reid. See for herself that everything was okay.

  As they neared the front steps, a man stepped from the shadows of the portico that fronted the building. Harrison pulled his gun, moving in front of Hannah. But as the light revealed the man’s features, she recognized one of the operatives assigned to protect the building. Casey James.

  After trading identification, Hannah explained that she’d come to see Tina. “Is she asleep?”

  “Far as I know.” Casey nodded. “Reid’s last check-in was at ten-thirty, and he said she’d been sleeping since late afternoon. And it’s been quiet since then.”

  Hannah shot a look toward Harrison, unsure again what to do, but still fighting the feeling that something was wrong.

  “Well, obviously we don’t want to wake her,” Harrison said to Casey, “but it’s well past midnight now so I’m assuming you must be due to check in with Reid. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone. You can verify everything’s okay, and we can check on Tina.”

  “Suits me,” Casey shrugged, and pulled out a radio. “It’s a little early, but Reid won’t mind. And I totally understand your wanting to check on your friend.” He nodded in Hannah’s direction, obviously having seen her coming and going over the past few days. “Echo two to Echo one. Come in, please.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Casey waited a moment for a response and then with a frown, repeated the call. “Echo two to Echo one. Come in please.”

  “Is there something wrong?” Hannah asked, her worry ratcheting up a notch.

  “He’s probably just asleep,” Casey said, still frowning. “But it’s not like Reid not to answer.” He spoke again into the radio’s mic, the coordinates this time for the third man watching the building. The radio immediately crackled to life, the two operatives holding a brief conversation.

  “Bill can’t raise him either,” Casey said after signing off. “So it’s not my radio. But like I said, Reid’s probably just asleep. We’ve been out here the whole time. Me on the door and Bill patrolling the perimeter. There’s no way anyone’s gotten by us.”

  The pronouncement should have made her feel better, but it didn’t.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Harrison said, his eyes on the building as he drew his gun, “but with this guy, we can’t be too careful. Better check it out.”

  “Sure,” Casey said, also producing a weapon. “Do you want me to call it in?”

  “Not yet.” Harrison shook his head. “We don’t actually know that there’s anything to report.”

  Behind them, the bushes rattled, and all three of them spun around, weapons ready. A man emerged from the bushes, hands out. “It’s just me.”

  Casey lowered his gun, and Hannah released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as she recognized Bill—the third man.

  “Jesus, Bill, we could have shot you,” Casey said, his eyes shooting back to the still-darkened building.

  “Sorry.” The other man shook his head. “I should have radioed first. But I figured if there was trouble, you’d want help.”

  “You figured right,” Harrison interjected. “There’s definitely strength in numbers.”

  “So how do you want to proceed?” Casey asked, automatically deferring to Harrison, and Hannah wondered how much they’d been told about A-Tac.

  “The three of us will head inside,” Harrison said, tilting his head toward Casey and Hannah, “and Bill, you’ll keep watch here in the front. I take it you’ve seen nothing to indicate that anyone has tried to get inside the building?”

  “No. Everything’s locked down tight. Most of the windows are too high to reach easily. And the ones that someone could access, we armed with motion detectors. If someone had tried to get inside, they’d have woken half the campus.”

  Harrison nodded. “All right then. We’re probably looking at nothing more than Reid falling asleep and missing the call, or maybe some kind of radio malfunction. But either way, we need to check it out.”

  “Roger that,” Casey said, checking the clip in his gun as Bill moved into place in the bushes near the front of the building.

  On Harrison’s signal, they headed past Bill and up onto the portico, stopping just short of the door, with Harrison flanking it on the right and Hannah and Casey on the left. Hannah’s heart pounded in her ears as a swirl of dust and leaves skittered across the concrete floor.

  Harrison’s eyes met hers, and on a silent count of three, he swung out and pushed through the glass door, Casey following right behind him, with Hannah in the rear. After the tree-lit campus, the foyer was blindingly dark. The three of them moved automatically into a defensive circle, standing back to back, weapons drawn as they turned slowly, searching for any sign that something was amiss.

  But the building was quiet, the only sound coming from the wind as it buffeted the windows. And as their eyes adjusted to the dark, it was clear that there was no welcoming committee. Still they remained on alert as they walked toward the stairs.

  A grand mahogany affair hinting at the college’s more opulent days, the staircase ascended to the second floor, where it turned and narrowed as it continued up to the fourth floor and the apartment where Tina was staying. With Casey now taking the rear position and Harrison in the lead, they climbed, passing the second-and third-floor landings without incident.

  The windows that lined the upper-floor stairwells provided a small amount of light, and Hannah glanced at her watch, surprised to find that only a few minutes had passed. Somehow it felt like eons. She tried to tell herself that they were overreacting, that both Tina and Reid were fast asleep, but her gut refused to listen, her inner voice screaming that something was wrong.

  They stepped out onto the fourth floor, the hallway dark. After they had waited a beat and nothing moved, Harrison flipped on his tac-light, the beam cutting along
the corridor as they slowly moved forward, guns still at the ready.

  “Reid?” Casey called as they approached the apartment, but there was no response.

  An overturned chair lay in front of the door, the remains of the smashed radio scattered in front of it, but there was no sign of Reid. The door was closed, but when Harrison turned the knob it opened, swinging inward on silent hinges.

  The apartment, like the hallway, was dark. And it took every ounce of willpower Hannah possessed not to push past Harrison calling for Tina. But protocol existed for a reason, so she held back as Casey and Harrison moved inside, checking the living room for signs of an intruder.

  “We’re clear, in here, but the power is out,” Harrison said as Hannah pushed past him, calling Tina’s name as she went—dreading what she was going to find. But the bedroom, like the rest of the apartment, was empty, and Hannah wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or terrified. Probably both. She flicked on her tac-light, swinging it across the room. The bed was unmade, and just for a moment, Hannah could see Tina sitting there, bleary eyed, only half awake.

  Hannah shook her head, the image vanishing. She turned to examine the rest of the room. Tina’s phone sat on the bedside table, and her duffle was stashed in the corner, clothes spilling out of the top. Hannah fought a wave of desperation. Her friend was in trouble, and it wouldn’t help if Hannah let her emotions get in the way.

  “Any signs of a struggle in here?” Harrison asked as he walked into the room, his multi-colored eyes assessing.

  “No. But her phone is here, so I’m…” She struggled to find the words, the image of Tina returning front and center. She clenched her fist, fighting for control. “So I’m thinking she didn’t walk away willingly.” She forced herself to breathe, running a shaking hand through her hair, her heart constricting at the thought of her friend in the clutches of a serial killer.