Manx found a light switch and not only did the back storeroom brighten, but the entire shop lit up, aisle by aisle. It didn’t take much time to inspect the small shop and realize nothing seemed to be out of place. The cash register had been shut down and locked up. Even the Closed sign had been turned on. There was no indication of forced entrance.

“He may have grabbed her while she was walking to her car,” Manx said, scratching his head, reminding Tully of one of the Three Stooges.

An officer took off out the door to check the alley, while the other started rummaging through the storeroom.

“Rosen filled me in, told me about O’Dell.”

Tully stopped and glanced over at Manx from behind the counter. The detective’s bulldog features softened. He actually looked sympathetic, if that was possible. Tully decided the jacket was definitely orange. In the bright light of the store there was no doubt.

“Now maybe you’ll understand,” Tully said, “why she’s been overly anxious about your investigation of the McGowan woman’s disappearance.”

“Well, I figure there might be a reason to rethink the Endicott case, too.” Manx hesitated as though making a major concession. “I’ve got copies of the case file for you in my car.”

“Detective,” the officer from the storeroom called out. He appeared at the door, his face pale and his eyes wide. “There’s a wine cellar below the storeroom. I think you better take a look.”

Tully followed Manx. They started down the narrow steps, only a bare lightbulb above to guide the way. But Tully didn’t need to see anything to know they had found the murder site. No farther than the third or fourth step, he could smell the blood, and he knew his stomach was not ready for what was below.

CHAPTER 57

Detective Rosen had called and filled in the Newburgh Heights Police Department when they realized Hannah Messinger may have been taken from the downtown liquor store. O’Dell had anxiously accompanied Dr. Holmes, and Rosen had stayed behind at the truck stop, gathering evidence, so Tully decided to accompany Manx and his men. After talking to Detective Manx earlier in the week and not being impressed with his foot-dragging tactics on the Tess McGowan case, Tully knew he should be here if any evidence showed up.

As he waited for one of Manx’s officers to jimmy the lock on the back door, he found himself wondering if Detective Manx had been called away from some nightclub. He was dressed in chinos and a bright orange jacket with a blue tie. Okay, maybe the jacket could pass for brown. It was difficult to tell under the street lamps. But he was certain the tie had little dolphins on it. He took a sidelong look at Manx. He looked to be about his age. His buzz cut emphasized his square features, but Tully supposed women probably found Manx attractive in a brutish sort of way. Actually, he had no clue what women found attractive anymore.

From this position in the alley, Tully recognized the back of Mama Mia’s Pizza Place on the corner. A shiny new Dumpster replaced the one they had found Jessica Beckwith in. Perhaps it was the owner’s way of getting rid of any and all memories. What would they think when they found out that another woman had been taken and murdered only several stores away?

He pulled up the collar of his jacket against the sudden chill of the night. Or perhaps the chill came simply from the memory of that beautiful young woman tangled unceremoniously in a web of garbage. Thinking of young Jessica Beckwith reminded Tully of Emma. How could he ever make Emma understand he only wanted to protect her? That he wasn’t simply being mean. Not that she wanted any explanation. And of course, now she wasn’t even talking to him since he had prevented her from going to the prom with Josh Reynolds.

“We tried to get hold of the owner,” Manx interrupted Tully’s thoughts. “He’s out of town, won’t be able to get back until late tomorrow. His wife said Messinger was taking care of things.”

Tully reached for his eyeglasses and noticed the officer was making a mess of the door’s lock. Finally something clicked just as the door handle came loose and fell off.

Manx found a light switch and not only did the back storeroom brighten, but the entire shop lit up, aisle by aisle. It didn’t take much time to inspect the small shop and realize nothing seemed to be out of place. The cash register had been shut down and locked up. Even the Closed sign had been turned on. There was no indication of forced entrance.

“He may have grabbed her while she was walking to her car,” Manx said, scratching his head, reminding Tully of one of the Three Stooges.

An officer took off out the door to check the alley, while the other started rummaging through the storeroom.

“Rosen filled me in, told me about O’Dell.”

Tully stopped and glanced over at Manx from behind the counter. The detective’s bulldog features softened. He actually looked sympathetic, if that was possible. Tully decided the jacket was definitely orange. In the bright light of the store there was no doubt.

“Now maybe you’ll understand,” Tully said, “why she’s been overly anxious about your investigation of the McGowan woman’s disappearance.”

“Well, I figure there might be a reason to rethink the Endicott case, too.” Manx hesitated as though making a major concession. “I’ve got copies of the case file for you in my car.”

“Detective,” the officer from the storeroom called out. He appeared at the door, his face pale and his eyes wide. “There’s a wine cellar below the storeroom. I think you better take a look.”

Tully followed Manx. They started down the narrow steps, only a bare lightbulb above to guide the way. But Tully didn’t need to see anything to know they had found the murder site. No farther than the third or fourth step, he could smell the blood, and he knew his stomach was not ready for what was below.

CHAPTER 58

He couldn’t believe that she had escaped. How had she been able to unlock the door so easily? He should have felt disappointment rather than exhilaration. But even his fatigue would not deprive him of the thrill and challenge of a good hunt.

The night goggles seemed to make little difference. Sure they helped him see, but there was nothing to see. Where could that little cunt have wandered off to? He shouldn’t have left her unattended for so long, but he had been distracted with the cute brunette. She had been so thoughtful, just as she had been with Agent Maggie. She had taken her time, helping him pick out a nice bottle of wine, not minding that it was closing time. In fact, she had already shut off the Open sign and was locking the front door, when he hurried in. Yes, she had been most helpful, insisting he try the crisp, white Italian for his special occasion, all the while not realizing that she herself would be the denouement of his special occasion.

But his little detour had taken its toll on him. He should have simply taken his prize and left her body in the cellar of the liquor store. At least then his muscles wouldn’t be aching. His eyes were having problems focusing. The red lines were appearing more frequently, or were the night goggles malfunctioning? He hated to think that his eyesight had gotten worse in less than a week. He hated the idea of depending on someone else. But he would do whatever was necessary to accomplish his goal, to finish this game.

He wandered through the dark woods, annoyed that his feet kept tripping over tree roots and slipping on the mud. He had fallen once, but not again. He bet she hadn’t wandered far from the shed. They never did. Sometimes they even came back, afraid of the dark or wanting to get out of the cold or the rain. Stupid bitches, so gullible, so naive. Usually they followed the same path, hoping the worn trail would lead them to freedom. Never thinking it might lead them, instead, to another trap.