Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,59

scene tech was in front of Melissa’s tree. At least, that was how Victoria thought of it . . . a white tree that was streaked with red blood. The waves rose, sliding over her toes. She knew the techs had been working against the tide the whole time, but Mother Nature seemed determined to make their job as difficult as possible.

The ropes had been taken away. Bagged and tagged. As had so many of the items in that little cottage. The cops were still trying to track the owner of the cottage.

She knew Dace had one idea . . . Find the owner, find the killer.

But she doubted things would be that easy, despite what Dace wanted. Just like with the phone trace before, she suspected their perp was too smart to have made an obvious mistake. And having your name listed on the property where you torture and murder innocent women? That would definitely qualify as an obvious mistake.

Her gaze lingered on the blood. Melissa must have been so afraid at the end. When she’d seen Wade, had hope pushed that fear away?

Victoria prayed that it had. Because no one’s last moments should just be all about fear. And maybe, maybe, Melissa had been able to hope, for a little while.

Victoria squared her shoulders and headed back up the beach. She climbed the small incline that led to the woods and slipped beneath the yellow police tape. As soon as she cleared the tape, her phone vibrated. She pulled the phone from her pocket and saw the text from Wade.

I miss you.

The text made her pause. And . . . warmth bloomed in her chest. She’d barely seen Wade in the last few mad hours. He’d been working with the cops, making certain that evidence didn’t get contaminated. And she’d been on the phone, trying to call in as many favors as possible. If more bodies were buried out there, they’d need corpse-­sniffing dogs on the scene as well as ground-­penetrating radar. They couldn’t just start digging. They needed the tools to do the search right. She’d tried to get them those tools.

I miss you.

Her fingers slid over the screen. She typed back . . .

I know you worry. I will stay safe. Promise.

Then she kept walking up the trail. Half a dozen people were gathered there, watching. Whispering. Gossip had spread fast, and Victoria knew that it was only a matter of time before news crews showed up. This story was going to be everywhere. It was too horrific not to make headlines.

Her phone vibrated again.

Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.

The warmth she’d felt faded. Wade seemed so certain that she was in danger. But cops were all around. She was perfectly safe.

WADE LEANED AGAINST his rented SUV as he stared at the little cottage. Such a small place, to hide such hell. He’d watched as crime scene techs swarmed the house. If the perp had once held Kennedy Lane in that cottage, the techs would find proof. He’d made damn sure those guys were as thorough as possible.

Day had come. Fucking finally knocking out the night.

Melissa was dead. Not a big surprise, considering what Victoria had told him, but they’d received official word less than forty-­five minutes after the chopper lifted off from the island.

“This is a such a freaking shame,” Dace said as he stalked toward Wade.

Yes, it was.

“We’ve got a hit, though, on the burial site.” Dace’s lips thinned. “Two cops found a spot, about one mile back from the house, buried deep in the woods. The cadaver dogs that Victoria got for us . . . they led the team there. There’s a big hole . . . a hole that I’m betting once contained Kennedy’s body.”

Wade’s eyes were still on the cottage. “So he kept her here, too.”

“For three years? I don’t buy that shit. Someone would have known. Someone would have seen something.”

Wade shook his head. “Not if he didn’t let her out. If he kept her locked inside, if she never escaped from him, then how would anyone know? He soundproofed the place—­you and I both saw that.” Smart SOB. “So the women could scream as long as they wanted, and no help would be coming to them.”

“Why the hell would someone do this? What does he get from it?”

“Power.” Wade knew that with certainty. “This freak likes being in control. He likes knowing that his victims are helpless.”

At his mercy.

Only Wade didn’t think the guy had much mercy