A wave of nausea flutters through my stomach, and I swallow down bile. Where is Sadie? I hope she’s okay. Thoughts of something bad happening to my dog send more tears down my cheeks.

I sniff, clear my throat, and try to do an inventory. I don’t have anything with me. No keys, no wallet, no phone. There’s an old toilet and sink near where I’m chained. I pull myself up on the sink and turn the faucet handle. It screeches, but nothing comes out, and in the dim light I see rusty stains in the basin. The toilet bowl has water in it, but it’s dark, as though it’s been there twenty years.

I walk in the other direction, as far as I can away from the toilet and sink, until I reach the end of my chain tether. There doesn’t seem to be anything else down here. Through the gloom, I look for the stairs, but don’t see any, only an open door high up where the stairs should be. The end of a ladder protrudes from the floor above. I’m trapped. Even if I can get the handcuff off, I can’t get out.

My stomach pitches. I feel sick and collapse back down to the floor. I’m woozy. Like before. Like when I was six years old. Then I remember when the man grabbed me, he stuck me in my arm with something. I wonder what it was and hope it isn’t something terrible. I rub my face with stiff cold fingers. What am I going to do?

This place is old, but not as old as the farmhouse was, at least as much as I can remember. There was no bathroom there, and the floor was dirt. Indie and I had peed our pants. That I remember, and that had made him angry, but we were just little girls. This place is different. I have a bathroom, such as it is, and that almost makes me laugh. The caller said he wanted me back in the cellar. So here I am. A new cellar but trapped just the same.

CHAPTER 62 - Rita

CHAPTER 62

Rita

CHASE IS OFF THIS MORNING, BUT JOE AND AGENT METZ MEET ME AT the station. I’ve got hazelnut muffins that André made, and Joe brought coffees. Work sometimes feels awfully civil even when we’re dealing with the worst of humanity. It’s a strange balance that ultimately unnerves some people and sends them skittering for work outside of law enforcement, like my ex-husband, Ed. Four and a half years on the force, and he was done.