She turned, staring across the room at the shadow that began to lengthen beneath the soft light, then darken and materialize.
Wide-eyed, shocked, she watched as the figure rose from beside the bed, a malevolent smile on his face, his brown eyes glittering with triumphant glee as he straightened from beside the bed.
“No one ever thinks to check beneath the bed properly,” Wes Bridges crooned with diabolical smugness. “They’ll check everywhere else. They’ll bend and look at the floor beneath the bed. But they never look up once they get down.”
“Wes? What are you doing?”
“Showing them how incompetent they are,” he snickered. “And you’re the prize. If they had caught me, you would have lived. But they didn’t catch me, Keiley, so I get to kill you. Just letting them go isn’t any fun anymore. There have to be stakes in any game, don’t you agree?”
“Game? What game?” Terror was shaking through her, stealing her strength as he pulled a wickedly long knife from behind his back.
“Cat and mouse,” he sneered. “I could have been an excellent agent. But they wouldn’t let me in. They made all the tests harder for me. I was smarter and brighter than all the others and they couldn’t accept that, so they had to make it harder. They had to make sure I failed.”
“Who?”
“Those bastards at that f**king FBI training center. They didn’t realize my genius. Well, I’m showing them now, aren’t I?” He smiled with relish. “I’ve been showing them for years how inept they are. And do you know, Keiley, none of those stupid agents think to look at the underside of a box spring or pay attention to the fact that the bed slats are sometimes just a little out of place?”
“How do you know?” She had to keep him talking just a little longer. Mac and Jethro would be back any minute. Just a few more minutes, she prayed.
“Pappy,” he said triumphantly.
“The dog? Mac’s dog?”
“My dog,” he snapped, a furious frown brewing on his brow. “That’s my dog. I trained him. I made his collar. I inset the rivets on it with a remote listening device and miniature camera. I saw everything. I heard everything. And I knew they wouldn’t check beneath the bed the right way. They bend down and check the floor,” he cackled. “They never check the box springs.”
“Mac will know it was you,” she whispered. “He’ll kill you.”
“Mac will never know,” he crooned. “I don’t leave witnesses. And I’m tired of disguising myself when I make my final move. I’m going to cut you into little pieces, Keiley.” He glanced at the clock, then back to her. “I can do a lot of cutting in five minutes. And you will bleed a lot. Then I’ll just go out the window and come to work tomorrow like usual. He’ll never know. Never ever know.”
“He’ll know.” Terror gripped her throat, making her voice hoarse, ragged. “He’ll find you, Wes.”
He shook his head. “Poor Keiley. You’re just a pretty little pawn, and all pawns must be sacrificed.” He lifted the knife higher.
Her gaze flew to the gun. His followed. And they both dove for it at the same time.
Mac and Jethro checked the upstairs first, each room, one by one. Closets, bathrooms, the two spare bedrooms, and the utility closet before moving downstairs.
They made their way from the back of the house to the front, checking the offices first, and working their way to the living room and the front door as they checked each of the motion-activated alarms on the door frames. They didn’t find a problem until they checked the alarm on the wide frame between the foyer and the living room.
“It’s rigged,” Jethro muttered as he ran his fingers over it, dislodging a metal sliver that had kept the alarm activated while allowing it to send a clear signal.
Mac moved through the room, his weapon held ready as he swept the area before moving to the window on the other side of the room.
“How did he get in?” Mac growled.
Jethro looked up from the alarm he was checking against the monitoring device in his hand. Keying in commands, he began to run a diagnostic on all the alarms, tracking any anomalies that wouldn’t have shown up otherwise.
Finally, his gaze lifted, horror reflecting in his expression. “The bedroom alarm was deactivated and then reset without triggering the monitor.”
“How?”
Jethro didn’t have time to answer. Keiley’s scream shattered the silence of the house, followed by the sharp explosive retort of a weapon.
“Keiley!” they screamed in unison as they hit the stairs, taking them two and three at a time as they rushed for the bedroom.
Mac reached the door first. Gripping the doorknob, he threw his weight into the panel, bursting into the room an inch ahead of Jethro, where both men came to a resounding, shocking stop.
Keiley’s head jerked around, the weapon held in both hands, white as a sheet, her eyes dark and too round in her face, her hands shaking.