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Where could she go? She looked around for any sign of light, any other building, or for the flash of headlights that might indicate a nearby road.
But there was nothing. Nothing anywhere. This place was in the middle of nowhere, and panic flared in her again.
It didn't matter. She just had to run! To put as much distance as she could behind this prison and herself. To run and to hide, somewhere that he could not catch up or find her. Ever.
But the quietness was broken by him roaring in rage again.
"Come back! Come back, or you'll regret it!"
"No!" She mouthed the word, desperate and defiant. But all the defiance in the world couldn't stop what was going to play out. Only luck and speed might, possibly, do that.
Chloe ran, sprinting and stumbling, the ground rough under her feet.
There was a snap somewhere behind her. Her heart lurched in her chest as she tried to speed up, her breath rasping in her throat, her mouth dry, and her chest tight with terror. Over her head, the leaves rustled, and the moon slid behind the clouds. Suddenly, it was very dark.
She remembered something she’d promised to do. A sign she needed to leave, a sign that might help if she was caught. It might help the others, at least. She didn’t think it would help her. If she was caught, it would be the end.
Quickly, her fingers fumbling, she did what she needed to do, scanning the woods anxiously at the same time, looking for a house, a road, anything.
Was that a light ahead? She thought she'd seen something, no more than a muted glow, but perhaps it was something, a small cabin in the woods or even a tent.
"Help me!" she screamed. "Help me!"
But in the maze of branches and tree trunks, she lost sight of it. Her ankle twisted, and she stumbled down, gasping in pain. Where had it been, that one quick sight of the haven that might save her? Where?
Sobbing in a breath, Chloe ran on, blindly now, into the night. Trees scraped her arms, and branches tugged at her hair. Her white dress caught on a twig and tore with a loud ripping noise that slowed her down as she struggled to break free.
The elusive light ahead was gone, vanished in the trees. The one behind, the one pursuing her, was getting brighter. She could hear his footsteps now, thudding through the undergrowth.
With her stomach twisting in despair, Chloe knew that she wasn't going to make it. She'd tried so hard, but she didn't know where she was, and there was no sign of life except for him. She wasn’t fast enough, and he knew these woods.
The footsteps were closing in. The nightmare was coming true.
And then Chloe screamed as a hand grabbed her from behind.
CHAPTER ONE
Deputy May Moore was on the hunt. This mission meant everything to her. Piece by piece, step by step, she was following the clues related to her sister Lauren's disappearance ten years ago, and they had now led her to this dilapidated farmhouse.
It was a cool, cloudy, fall morning but she barely noticed the tugging breeze. She felt tense all over. This could end up being a violent confrontation, or a false lead, or a total disappointment.
The farmhouse was situated deep in the rural woodland of Tamarack County, Minnesota, and it was about ten miles from her hometown of Fairshore. From here, there had been a ping on the APB for Harriet Downs, aged thirty-three and presumed dead.
But in fact, living here?
She had no idea what to expect as she climbed out of the car, with the chilly gusts whipping her sandy blond hair. It was six a.m. because she was pursuing this cold case in her private time so as not to interfere with her workload.
May fixed her blue eyes on the farmhouse's peeling, battered door as she strode up the grass.
As she walked, a squawk in her ear reminded her that her FBI agent sister Kerry was here—not in person, but remotely. It was thanks to Kerry, and the FBI's sophisticated technology, that they'd gotten this far in the search, and now May felt glad of her sister's presence and support.
"Are you heading to the house?"
May imagined her sister, with her blond pixie cut and strong, beautiful face, bent over the computer, tracking her movements on the map—probably from some state-of-the-art console in a hushed, modern FBI office, although she could also be working from her top-end penthouse apartment.
"I’ve gotten out of the car. I'm heading to the house." May stumbled over a loose paving block, buried in the grass.
"What's that?" Kerry asked, her voice sharp, clearly picking up May's catch in her breath.
