Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ace pulled into the clinic lot with the last of the evening light still hanging over Knife’s Edge.
The color in the sky had shifted to a washed-out silver as more clouds rolled in, and the air carried that damp hint that more rain was coming.
So far, the lightning hadn’t caused any local forest fires, but he wasn’t sure how long their luck would last.
He shut off the engine and sat for a second, listening to the tick of the cooling dash and the faint hiss of wind through the spruce around him. It had been a long preliminary hearing, and once again, he wasn’t feeling great about his chances at trial.
Hopefully May would want to grab a quick dinner in town. Being around her relaxed him.
He got out and walked to the front door, already reaching for the handle. The CLOSED sign faced outward. The door was locked. That was normal after hours, but May would’ve let him know if she was taking off.
He pulled out his phone and called her. Several rings came over the line, and then the call went to voice mail.
That was odd. If she were with a patient, the door wouldn’t be locked.
He lowered the phone and looked through the glass.
The reception area lights were on, bright and steady.
May didn’t leave the clinic lit up if she was gone.
Warning clicked through him. He could go through the hospital, but if she’d locked this door, the adjoining one would be secure as well.
Would May have left without giving him a call? He didn’t think so. The wind grew more forceful, and a light rain started to drop.
He walked along the side of the building toward the back, his senses on full alert.
The clinic backed up to the tree line, and the forest felt close tonight, wet and watchful.
The back lot was empty, so Nancy and Lance weren’t at work.
Ace had driven May earlier, and Dr. Patterson usually jogged to work, so Ace didn’t immediately panic.
The rear clinic door sat slightly ajar.
Ace stopped with one hand half lifted. He stared at the gap for a beat, then for another. The latch hadn’t caught.
He pushed it with two fingers.
The door gave silently and the warmer air of the clinic brushed his face. He stepped in and let the door ease shut behind him. The place felt wrong. Vacant. He stood in the dim hallway and listened.
Nothing moved.
“May,” he called once, not loud, just enough to reach down the hall.
No answer.
His pulse stayed steady, but his attention sharpened.
Maybe she’d just run over to Hittie’s for a coffee, but she should’ve called.
At least texted. He moved toward her office.
The door was open, and the desk lamp was on.
A folder sat near her keyboard, and an empty mug rested on a stack of papers.
Her phone was on the wood, face down, charging.
He picked it up.
The screen lit immediately to show missed calls from him, one from Daisy, and one from Amka. No outgoing call to him. Heat blasted through him. May didn’t go anywhere without her phone. Couldn’t. She was always on call.
Now panic threatened to take him, so he shoved it away, settling into training.
He set it back down in the same spot and scanned the room. The chair was pulled slightly away from the desk. A small space heater sat in the corner, unplugged. A framed nature photo hung crooked on the wall.
He stepped back into the hallway and headed toward the exam rooms. His boots made almost no sound on the linoleum, and the walls seemed too quiet.
Exam Room One was dark and closed.
Exam Room Two was open, and the overhead light was on.
He stepped into the doorway and took it in fast. The counters were wiped down, and the sink looked recently used. The air smelled strongly of bleach. Not the normal, controlled clinic-clean smell. This was harsher. Fresh.
Adrenaline poured through him. He walked in and looked at the floor first. Near the far wall, the tile looked different.
It had a faint discoloration and a shadow that didn’t match the rest of the linoleum.
He crouched, brought his hand down, and dragged two fingers lightly across it.
Tacky. Going on instinct, he pulled the baseboard away from the wall.
Blood. A lot of it and still fresh. His throat closed.
He stood slowly and looked at the wall again, higher this time.
There were tiny specks there, cleaned but not fully removed, the kind of fine spray that didn’t come from a scraped knee.
It came from force or from a wound under pressure.
He ran to the connecting door to the hospital and opened it, shocked to find it open.
“Hi,” Dr. Patterson said, looking up from behind the reception desk. “What’s up, Ace?”
Ace’s body was going cold. “Have you seen May or heard anything odd?”
Patterson’s eyebrows lifted, and his blue eyes behind his glasses widened. “No, nothing. But I did have the music on for a while. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure.” Ace turned and hustled out the front door, looking frantically around the front parking lot.
May hadn’t walked away from her clinic without her phone. Or left the back door open. She was gone. Taken.
His mind tried to build the list of who could do this. There was a killer in town. He liked blondes and might’ve decided May was next.
Kyle Mercer flashed through Ace’s brain.
The asshole wanted May, and Kyle had money and power and that polished smile that made people underestimate what he could do behind closed doors.
Yeah, he had an alibi for Ivy’s murder, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep coming after May. There was something wrong with the guy.
Ace sucked in air, moving into a calming rhythm he’d learned in Naval training. Tugging his phone out of his pocket, he called his brothers on a group line.
Brock answered immediately, his face filling the screen. “Ace.”
“I’m at May’s clinic. The front door’s locked. Back door was open. Her phone is here and there’s blood in an examination room. A lot of it.” His voice cracked at the end.
Christian came onto the screen as he began to speak. “I’m right around the corner. Be right there.”
“Stay there,” Brock said, flashing onto the screen again.
“No,” Ace said, already moving toward his truck. “I’m going to check out Kyle Mercer’s rental out at North Reach, because it’s the only thing I can think to do right now. I need you and Olly to start canvassing the town. See if anybody saw anything.”
“Already doing it,” Brock said, and the line went dead.
Damian started speaking as he came into view. “There are clouds coming, but I’ll get the helicopter up. If you’re going toward North Reach, I’ll fly the other direction.”
Ace’s stomach clenched. “Go along Two Trout Creek, would you?”
Damian’s gaze narrowed. “You’ve got it. She’s smart and tough, Ace. She’ll be okay.”
Yeah, but where was she?
Christian tore into the parking lot and jumped out of his truck with Tika on his heels. “You drivin’?” His brother was all business, wearing jeans and a light T-shirt.
“Yeah.” Ace got into his truck as his brother and Tika did the same. He swung the Ford around and accelerated, his heart racing. “She has to be okay.”
Christian looked out the window, scouting the area. “Are you sure she didn’t just go get dinner?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t know how, but he knew. May was in trouble.
The trunk was pitch black.
May couldn’t see anything, not even the shape of her own knees. The air felt used up. Hot at first from the engine, then colder as the rain started pounding overhead. Every turn slammed her shoulder into metal, and every bump shoved Jack’s body harder against her side.
His hand kept hitting her ribs when the car bounced.
She tried to twist away from him, but there wasn’t room. The carpet was damp and rough against her cheek. It smelled like old rubber and something metallic that wouldn’t go away.
The car accelerated, and rain hammered the lid hard enough to drown out everything else.
She tried to curl tighter and create space between her and Jack’s body. The elastic binding her wrists had swollen with moisture. She twisted them again anyway, dragging the knot against the ridged edge of the trunk liner. Pain lanced up both arms. The knot didn’t move.
If she could get one hand free, she could fight.
The car hit a dip and Jack rolled into her. She shoved him back with her knees, trying not to panic. She had to think.
The car finally rolled to a stop. A door opened and then she heard shoes scraping over gravel. She twisted her wrists again, frantically now, dragging the elastic over the metal seam, grinding skin raw. If she could just get one hand loose. Just one.
The trunk latch clicked.
Light exploded in.
Kyle stood over her, rain soaking his shirt. The air smelled like cold water and wet spruce.
Jack’s body jerked as Kyle hauled him by the collar and one ankle, dragging him over May and across the trunk lip. Jack’s head knocked against the bumper with a dull crack. May instinctively shoved backward.
Kyle dragged Jack out and dropped him onto the ground.
May tried to launch herself out of the trunk, but he shoved her back and slammed the lid again. Damn it. She struggled, trying for the latch, but it wouldn’t give.
Kyle was back in minutes, opening the lid.
She blinked against the rain and saw they were outside the garage of the sprawling river house. The place was shielded by trees that created a private alcove. Nobody could see her here.
He manacled her by the upper arm and yanked her out of the trunk so violently her feet barely found the ground before she stumbled. Mud slid under her shoes. Rain blinded her. She tried to wrench free, but he kept her arm locked high and tight.
“Knock it off,” he hissed, drawing the gun from his back to press against her ribs. “You need to walk with me, or I swear I’ll end this now.”
She had to survive this. Ace had to be looking for her. She hoped he wasn’t still in his hearing. A sob tore through her, muffled by the gag that was choking her. She’d look for a knife inside the house.
Kyle dragged her around the side instead, keeping the structure between them and any road view.
She fought him every step by digging in her heels and trying to twist her wrists toward her mouth to loosen the gag.
The rain made the rocks slick and she nearly went down twice, but he kept hauling her upright.
“Walk,” he ordered, tightening his grip until her shoulder burned.
She tried to scream anyway. The bandage swallowed the sound into a useless hum.
They moved down a narrow path that cut toward the river. Spruce branches bent under the rain and brushed her shoulders. The sound of the current grew louder with every step.
Lightning split the sky. For one second, the world went stark. The dock stretched ahead, slick and narrow, bouncing with the current.
A boat waited at the end.
She looked frantically around the small cove at the other river houses, but most were dark. Would anybody see her? Even so, through the rain, would they see she needed help? Or was she just a blur with Kyle moving toward a boat?
It was an aluminum river sled, maybe twenty-four feet long, low and narrow. A fishing boat without a cabin. It had a center console with a small windscreen, two bucket seats bolted behind it, and a seating bench toward the back.
Kyle marched her down the dock.
She fought him with a hard kick to his shin at the last second, trying to twist away toward the bank. He threw her into the boat, and she hit the deck on her knees next to Jack’s body. Pain shot up her thighs. Rain plastered her hair to her face.
Kyle stepped toward her, grabbed her by the collar of her lab coat, and hauled her up. “You’re riding back here.” He shoved her onto the rear seat.
Jack’s body lay on the bottom of the boat, partially on its side. Blood pooled on the aluminum below him.
Peter came running down the dock, his shirt soaked through and his breathing hard. “I handled it. The clinic’s clean, and there’s no visible blood in the examination room.”
Kyle nodded like they were discussing a meeting agenda. “Good.”
Peter didn’t even look at her.
Kyle handed him the gun. “Shoot her if she moves, but try not to kill her. I’m looking forward to squeezing the life out of this bitch.”
“We need to make it look like the other deaths.” Peter looked frantically around, his body visibly vibrating. “We don’t have time to take her to Two Trout Creek, but if we dump her by the side of this one, it’s close enough.” His gaze landed on Jack. “We’ll need to bury him somewhere else.”
May’s head spun, and her stomach revolted. Her best move was to wait until they were headed out of the alcove to jump from the boat. Could she swim with her hands bound?
Kyle untied the boat and stepped up to the console. He turned the key, and the jet motor caught with a metallic growl. The aluminum hull shuddered as the intake grabbed water, and the vibration ran straight through the deck and into May’s spine.
Rain slashed sideways now. The sky had lowered into something heavy and bruised. Wind ripped across the wide river and churned it into rough, uneven chop. Spray slapped hard against the hull.
May braced herself and tried again at the knot around her wrists, dragging the bandage against the metal base of the bench seat. It scraped. Not enough. She pulled harder.
The dock shrank behind them and the house blurred in the rain. The river opened wide and powerful ahead of them, gray and unforgiving. They were headed upstream.
Rain smashed down on her, keeping her cold and alert. There was no way she was letting them kill her. She bunched her muscles to leap, and Peter steadied his aim at her. “You’ll be dead before you hit the water, Dr. Smirnov.”
She trembled, but anger rushed through her. Okay. She’d have to tackle him and get that gun. The second the boat pitched, and it would in this storm, she’d make a move. She might survive a gunshot wound.
There wasn’t a choice.