Page 141 of D for Dead

‘Okay, thanks. You have the address?’

‘Sure.’ Benson seemed a little surprised he wanted it, but gave it willingly.

‘You take care now and see you tomorrow,’ she said as he got into the car, closing the door. ‘And don’t forget to try some of Marcie’s pancakes.’

Jake assured her he would and gave her a wave as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Did Cap fit into this picture somehow or was he chasing a dead lead? It would be worth checking out the Martin woman’s house, even if it was just to tick it off the list.

Right now he needed food and sleep. He would check it out in the morning.

* * *

Joel and Angell were alerted to Amy Gallaty and Victor Boaz’s disappearance early evening.

Pastor Ralph Michaels had found Boaz’s Camaro when leaving the church, with an unconscious Huckleberry on the back seat, and a pool of blood and Amy’s purse in the dirt next to the car.

The dog was rushed to a nearby vet and treated for dehydration, while Joel and Angell convened with Withers at the crime scene.

They interviewed the pastor, who confirmed he had spoken with Amy. After she had left he had pottered about in his office, sorting out paperwork. It was a good couple of hours before he made the discovery.

The blood came from a stab wound, probably stomach Withers guessed, and they needed to establish whether it belonged to Amy or Boaz. One certain thing was, they were both missing.

The killer had already re-enacted all six books. What was he planning?

They were still working on the basis their unsub was David Gavin. Had this been his plan of revenge: to kill from each of Amy’s books, then come after her?

The twins had been found earlier that day. Plenty of time for him to dump the car with their bodies and head back to Juniper. The pastor told them it had been Amy’s idea to meet, and while he wouldn’t go into the specifics of their conversation, Joel understood it had probably been prompted by their meeting with her earlier that morning, when he had accused her of lying to them.

Gavin had to have been watching her place and followed them to the church. He had probably overpowered Boaz first, before taking Amy when she returned to the car.

‘We need to tell Jake and Rivers.’

Angell was right. And they needed to establish where Amy and Boaz had been taken, and fast. Caparelli’s place was a possible. It had been used for murder before. Troy Cunningham’s beach house would need to be checked again also. They had been missing now over three hours and their killer had already proven he was a fast worker.

Hickok nodded grimly. ‘I’ll go make the call.’

* * *

Tucker Johnson hadn’t been found and, while it was unlikely he would return to the house, they had to be prepared for such an eventuality, so Wagner maintained a police presence. Having a squad car outside also kept the kids at bay. Too many of them were ghoulish little snoops who would think it a good idea to check out the murder house.

The deputy covering the first part of the Monday night shift was Howie Cox, one of the newer recruits to the sheriff’s department. It was his second time sitting guard outside the Johnson place and, though he would never admit it, the job scared the shit out of him.

Howie wasn’t a little guy; give him a bar brawl or a traffic incident and he was your man. He wasn’t afraid of confrontation and could hold his own in a fight, but stick him in the dark outside a creepy house where God knows how many people had died, he completely lost his bottle.

The first night he had made the mistake of bringing only a newspaper for company. The silence had been the worst thing. He couldn’t keep the car stereo on for fear of running down his battery, and soon learned that every sound was magnified when you were in the middle of nowhere. By the time Rawlins had arrived to relieve him, he was about ready to pee his pants.

This time he had brought a portable radio and a flask of coffee, as well as the newspaper. Dusk was only just starting to settle and it was going to be a long six hours.

He spent the first hour reading the sports pages, had a cup of coffee and texted his girlfriend, while listening to the local radio station and tapping his foot to the beat of Christina Aguilera and Eminem.

He made a point of having a pee before it got pitch black, locking the doors of the car when he got back inside. It was stupid, but he couldn’t help it. Nothing was going to attack him in the woods. There were no dead spirits in the house and Tucker Johnson was probably long gone. He just had to keep his cool until the shift change and then he could head home.

Around nine fifteen the sheriff radioed in, told him the author and her police guard had gone missing in Juniper. He asked Howie if he had seen anything untoward, telling him to keep his eyes peeled. It was likely they were still somewhere in Juniper, but they couldn’t be certain. Howie assured Wagner there had been nothing out of the ordinary and went back to his crossword.

His phone pinged and he smiled as he read the latest message from his girlfriend, Carlene, about keeping his spot warm in bed. He texted back a dirty response he knew would have her blushing and set the phone down.

It was then he saw the flashlight in the trees, heading towards the back of the house.