in need of direction. But he was a cop. People looked to him for answers. Only this time he’d run out of ideas, and it frustrated him.
Where had Katie gone? More importantly, where was Willow? If he found Willow, he’d locate Katie. Or vice versa. Had he been mistaken about all this?
Isla stared up at him, in need of answers. “What do we do now, Karl?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Katie has my gun. And what happens if Raisin’s numbers go off the rails?”
“If only Ray had been more attentive.”
She turned away from him, and he wondered if he’d crossed a line by blaming her husband. Lamenting Ray’s uselessness did nothing to help the situation. Now he wished he’d never said it.
“I’m sorry for blaming Ray. I should have never said that about him.”
“No, you’re spot on about Ray,” she said. “But now is not the time for blame. I’m concerned only for my kids’ safety.”
They climbed back in the car.
“In the meantime, I think we should drive around town and see if we can spot his pickup.”
“I suppose that’s our only hope of finding them.”
“It’s not the best idea, I know, but it’s the only thing I can think to do at the moment.”
“Thank you, Karl. I know you’re doing your best.”
Ray didn’t deserve such a good woman. Then again, she was the one to marry the lazy bastard. Granted, it was many years ago, after her college career had fizzled. And she’d been the recipient of unwanted sexual advances by that sleazy college professor. Was that why she had returned home and fallen for Ray’s bullshit charms? It really didn’t matter now how things had turned out. It was time to deal with reality.
He turned on the ignition and sped down the road. If only they could catch a break.
KATIE
WHEN I WAKE UP, MY SHOULDER THROBS AS MUCH AS MY HEAD. I’M sure it’s broken. Someone lifts me up and guides me down the stairs. I grit my teeth to counter the pain, only to realize that my eyes and mouth have been covered over, and my wrists secured behind my back. A door opens, and I’m led outside and into a vehicle. The engine roars, and soon we’re moving.
After about ten minutes, we stop. The front door opens and closes, and I’m escorted out of the vehicle. I can feel the barrel of a gun pressed against my back. Whoever has kidnapped me does not say a word. I’m led down a set of stairs and into a room. The restraints on my wrists are released, and my hands are freed. I’m shoved into a sitting position on the floor. A restraint is used to secure my hand to something above my head. Then the door closes.
I settle back against the concrete wall. It’s obvious I’m not going anywhere. Whoever has done this has a reason for kidnapping and blindfolding me.
Did Willow direct me to that cabin? But why? Is it because I burst in on her that night in a drunken rage? My shoulder aches so bad that I want to scream. I want to remember more about that night. Like seeing his face and then swinging that putter against the raised blanket. Or registering his surprised expression when I caught the two of them in bed together.
Did I misjudge Willow? I knew she had emotional issues that caused her to act out in unpredictable ways. But I never thought she, of all people, would turn on me. I’d seen her punish Tiffany with that head kick, and so I knew she was capable of violence. But is she capable of murder? Did she kill Dakota because he was interested in me? That couldn’t be true, because he dumped me soon after he’d coerced me into having sex with him. Or did she kill him because of her interest in me? Because she wanted me—her bestie—all to herself?
I remember delivering three hard blows to that blanket. Then I remember dropping the putter and staggering drunkenly down those crazy stairs.
What happened next?
I suddenly remember something else. I started running in my bare feet across the tile floor. The contents of my stomach tickled in the back of my throat. As I opened the front door, I heard him call out my name. He told me to come back and talk this matter through. To sit down with the two of them and figure out how to deal with everything that had just happened. He tried to