The Last Straw (The Jigsaw Files #4) - Sharon Sala Page 0,65

saw made his skin crawl.

“Oh, my God. You did it, Wyrick, you found her. Hold this,” he said and gave her the flashlight.

She moved in behind him, focusing the beam on the tiny body curled up beneath a blanket, while the police moved in behind her.

“Is it Rachel?” Floyd asked.

“Yes,” Charlie said.

“Is she alive?” Floyd asked.

Charlie was on his knees beside her, feeling for a pulse.

“Barely. She’s burning up with a fever.”

“Call it in!” Floyd said.

“There’s no signal down here,” Mills said and turned to one of the officers with them.

“Go back up and—”

“No,” Wyrick said. “There’s a set of stairs just beyond this room. They’ll take you up and out onto the grounds.”

“Then go, go,” Floyd said. “We need another ambulance and the crime lab back down here.”

He didn’t have to say it twice.

Both officers took off running, and within seconds they were up the stairs, out of the garden shed and running back toward the house.

When Charlie pulled back the blanket, and saw the knife hanging loosely in her hands, he stopped. “Hey, guys. You’re gonna want to bag this for evidence.”

Wyrick flashed the light on the knife, and then saw the wound beneath Rachel’s chin.

“Charlie...her neck...her arms...there are cuts all over her.”

“Did she do this to herself?” Charlie asked.

“No. He cut her. Somehow, she got it away from him.”

“The light’s broken,” Mills said, shining his flashlight up to the ceiling. Then he swung it down toward the floor. “There’s broken glass all over.”

“She’s only wearing one shoe,” Charlie said as he picked her up in his arms, then tried to shift her to an easier position without causing her more pain.

“Let’s go,” Wyrick said.

“We’ll stay here on scene,” Floyd said.

Wyrick swung the flashlight toward the floor, then up at the ceiling to the broken bulb.

“She used her shoe. She threw it at the light until she broke it.”

“But why would she want to be here in the dark?” Floyd said.

Wyrick’s eyes narrowed. The horror of the room was beyond explanation, but she could see Rachel throwing the shoe...over and over and over.

“Because when the kidnapper came back, she would have the advantage. She was lying right by the door. With a knife. It was probably her only chance to get out.”

“Only he didn’t come back,” Charlie said. “I wonder why?”

“Because we came,” Wyrick said and led the way out, running toward the stairs and shining the light for Charlie as he carried Rachel up, then out onto the grounds.

At that point Charlie’s horror at her condition grew. Seeing her in this light revealed every physical injury her kidnapper had inflicted, along with the infections that had developed, and those were just the ones he could see.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Rachel Dean, but you’re safe now. Your sister, Millie, sent us to find you, and the next time you open your eyes, she’ll be there.”

And then he took off in long, hurried strides, with her held close to his chest and Wyrick at his side.

Thirteen

Allen Carson was on site when Charlie and Wyrick came into the lobby. The officers on scene saw them coming, and Charlie Dodge carrying the missing woman in his arms.

Within seconds they began forming a phalanx around them, moving them through the lobby and out to meet the arriving ambulance.

As they moved past the office, the shock of seeing the woman in Charlie’s arms was something Allen would never forget.

“Is she alive?” he called out as they moved past him toward the exit.

“Barely,” Charlie said and kept going.

Allen pulled out his phone and made a call.

“This is the Ritz-Carlton. How may I direct your call?”

“This is Allen Carson. I need to speak to the manager, please.”

“One moment,” the operator said and then his call went through.

By the time Allen hung up, he’d reserved rooms for every resident of the Detter House, with the understanding that they would be there on his dime until the renovations were complete. Then he walked into the office.

“Wayne, I need you to send a list of the present residents’ names to the Ritz-Carlton Hotel here in the city. Send it to the attention of this man. He’s the manager, and the one I’ve already spoken to.”

Wayne took down the information. “Okay, got it, but...what’s going on?” he asked.

“I’m furnishing another place for them as a temporary residence,” Allen said.

“Wow! At the Ritz-Carlton?”

Allen nodded. “Now, I need you to start calling the residents and let them know that, for the time being, their new residence will