Cover

Dedication

This one’s for you, Melissa Naatz, for all the reasons. That includes, of course, but is not limited to, keeping me sane – or sometimes going nuts with me – and making me laugh while you do it.

And:

For all the readers out there who welcomed Alyssa Wyatt, along with her family – both work and home – into their lives; I’ve loved having you along on this journey.

Chapter One

Thursday, October 3

Addis Penn Kensington pounded on her mother’s chest in a vain and misguided attempt to get her to breathe. Misguided because it was obvious from the bullet hole in her mother’s forehead that chest compressions would get her nowhere. Still, she continued beating despite the vacant eyes staring up at the ceiling tiles as if her mother had been counting them, or more likely, wondering who she should scream at for the grime that coated the paint.

It was only when a low, keening wail coming from across the room finally penetrated that Addis was able to drag her numb brain away from the state of her mother’s corpse long enough for her mind to accept the reality of the bloodbath surrounding her. Fighting to keep the contents of her stomach inside, along with the scream clawing at her throat, she knew, as much as she wanted to pretend she’d done nothing more than stumble into a bad Halloween movie, she had to face what was right in front of her.

How could she not when the final nail in the coffin of deniability happened to be lying not ten feet from where she’d been working frantically at reviving her mother? Her father’s death had been far more savage than a bullet hole to the forehead.

Tears streaming and gasping for breath, Addis abandoned her efforts and pushed herself to her feet before collapsing against the stove, squeezing her eyes tight against the carnage as she fumbled for her phone. Though she tried, she couldn’t ignore the distinct coppery odor of blood that rushed in through her nostrils. Gagging, she barely turned to the trash can in time. Trembling as her knees threatened to give way, she averted her focus away from her parents and latched tightly onto the counter, as inch by slow inch, she staggered toward her best friend who was propped up against a wall, muffled, wheezing sobs bursting from her throat as she rocked back and forth, one arm wrapped protectively around her stomach while the other covered her nose and mouth.

When she and Emerson had walked through the door that evening, she’d been expecting the inevitable explosion of anger for taking off when her mother had forbidden her to leave her room, much less the house. She was even prepared for the required silent treatment that would surely follow, something that was never the punishment her mother believed it to be. But that wasn’t the point. The point was: she’d been expecting that – not this carnage.

Even after stumbling upon this horrific scene, her brain had refused to grasp the veracity of what she was seeing, and she’d stood frozen, unable to do or think about anything other than: It’s still three and a half weeks from Halloween. That thought had still been swirling in her mind when Emerson’s ear-piercing scream ripped through the room, her feet backpedaling as if she’d just encountered a diamondback rattlesnake, stopping only when she’d backed into the wet bar where her dinner made a return trip. Seconds later, Em’s legs had given out, and she’d collapsed against the nearest wall where she remained.

From that moment to now could’ve been minutes or hours. And though Addis knew she and Emerson needed to get out and call for help, the weight of the horror instead had her collapsing down beside her friend. Gripping Emerson’s hand in her own, her voice thick with fear and disbelief, she whispered, ‘We have to call the police.’

Temporarily releasing her grip, Addis, hands shaking, retrieved her phone from her pocket, dropping it twice before she was finally able to unlock the screen. Three numbers, that’s all she had to push – nine-one-one – but getting her brain to coordinate and cooperate with her fingers was far more difficult than it might seem. Especially as her eyes refused to stop darting her father’s way. A clawing pressure to crawl to him and curl herself into his side ripped through every fiber of her being.

Emerson’s fingernails bit into her forearm, halting Addis as her body subconsciously gravitated toward her father. ‘Ad, we need to go.’

It wasn’t Em’s plea that breached the recesses of Addis’s terrified mind; it was the musical chime above the front door, the sound chilling and ominous in a way it never had been before. Her heart jackhammered, making it even harder to breathe. ‘Oh my God. Someone’s in the house!’

Emerson’s head jerked up as Addis’s eyes flickered to the patio door. Could they cross the room, unlock the metal bar, and slip out without being noticed?

Footsteps sounded in the foyer, coming closer.

No, they didn’t have time. Addis forced herself to her feet, wrenching Em up with her.

As they skirted past her father’s corpse, she ordered herself not to look, but her head and limbs had a mind of their own because her chin dropped, and her eyes darted down to the tattered mess of his chest, causing her to sway unsteadily.

As she regained her balance, the unmistakable echoes of someone else’s footsteps on the tile floor drawing closer to the kitchen propelled her forward. Quietly and urgently shushing Emerson’s bubbling hysteria, she hauled her best friend past the carnage and down the hall to her father’s office where they could hide beneath his massive desk as she called for help.

But the moment she stepped through the doorway and saw the upended mess of files and papers, it was instantly clear that this might not have been the best choice. Keeping her grip tight, she turned to head back out, to run to her bedroom instead, but then a shadow darkened the wall at the end of the hall near the kitchen.

Whoever was in the house was coming this way. They were out of options.

Gasping for air through the sudden tightening in her chest, Addis gestured frantically toward her father’s desk before shoving Emerson in that direction. The second her friend was tucked into the small space, she squeezed herself in beside her, making sure their feet weren’t poking out before issuing a silent prayer that the intruder wasn’t close enough to hear her voice as she called the police. Except instead of dialing 911, she tapped the contact image of the one person she trusted most in the world besides her best friend.

‘Hello?’

Addis’s vocal cords froze, unfreezing only when her aunt’s worried voice came over the line once again.

‘Hello? Addis, are you there?’

Barely breathing, she whispered, ‘Aunt Grace—’

The sudden appearance of a man’s booted feet had Addis snapping her mouth shut even as, beside her, a shrill cry escaped Emerson.

Seconds later, a man’s blood-spattered face appeared in front of them, his cheeks flushing a ruddy red as he latched onto Addis’s wrist and yanked the phone from her hand. Screeching, she kicked out at the tall, muscular guy as he dragged her from beneath the desk. Just as she yelled out for Emerson to run, a fist connected with her temple, making Em’s horrified screams the last sound she registered before her world went black.

Chapter Two

Thursday, October 3

The house on Apache Ridge Place was ablaze with lights, making it appear there was a festive party taking place within the swanky neighborhood as opposed to the dramatic tale Detective Alyssa Wyatt knew was unfolding inside. Just as she hunched down to duck under the crime scene tape, headlights illuminated the area in front of her as her partner Cord Roberts parked behind her government-issued Chevy Tahoe. As he unfurled his tall frame from his car and headed her way, she noted his rumpled shirt, his uncombed hair, and the new lines decorating his face.

‘You look like demons dragged you through hell and brought you back. Is everything okay?’

There was a slight tremble to Cord’s hand as he tunneled his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. ‘Sara was having a bit of a rough night. Just as I was heading out, she got sick again, so I stuck around to make sure she was okay.’ He drew in a ragged breath and released it. ‘She is.’ In May, in the midst of a particularly heinous case, they’d learned his wife was pregnant with twins, and last month they’d had quite the scare when the doctor couldn’t detect one’s heartbeat only to have it reappear, weak, but present.

Cord eradicated further discussion by shifting his attention past the mobile crime scene van and along the long walkway before landing it on the house. ‘Why don’t you give me the condensed version of what happened here?’

Trying not to be too alarmed, Alyssa studied her partner’s profile before she finally accepted the dismissal for what it was. If Cord suspected Sara wouldn’t be okay, he wouldn’t be here. ‘All I know for sure is that Grace Burgess is the one who called Dispatch after she discovered her brother and sister-in-law, Gabriel and Lydia Kensington, dead, and their daughter, Addis, and Addis’s best friend, Emerson Childress, missing.’ Her footsteps quickened as they hurried up the walkway, her mind automatically conjuring up the young female victims – one of them being her daughter’s friend – of the sex-trafficking ring she and her team had broken up less than five months ago.

Before stepping through the doorway, in an effort to brace herself for what she knew she was about to encounter, Alyssa inhaled deeply through her nose, knowing it could be hours before she’d be able to breathe the fresh outside air again. Beside her, Cord’s frame stiffened as he, too, sucked in a breath.

Once inside, vomit mixed with the tangy, metallic odor of blood and death permeated every molecule of space around them, and Alyssa had to suppress the impulse to cover her nose and mouth to combat the overwhelming stench. Then, recognizing the voice of one of her team members whom she had thought was still out on vacation, she moved briskly through a dim formal dining room and around the corner into the kitchen where the rotting odor of death took on a whole new level of assault on the senses.

‘Holy Christ,’ she and Cord breathed out at the same time.

Less than five feet in front of them, Gabriel Kensington lay in a pool of blood. With one side of his skull caved in and his chest showcasing a multitude of stab wounds, he bore no resemblance to the man Alyssa had occasionally assisted on some of his cases.

She directed Cord’s attention to the pulpy mess of the man’s hands where his bones had clearly been shattered. The sight of the marble rolling pin covered in blood lying not far from Gabriel’s body near two overturned chairs depicted a picture of animalistic rage in the killer. Unfortunately, she could too easily envision Mr. Kensington’s last moments, and the graphic mental image sent chills rippling down her spine.

She’d seen pinatas that were less beaten.

And now it was quite possible, probable even, that the same killer had taken the girls, a thought that iced Alyssa’s blood.

One of their teammates, Officer Tony White – whose name was a perfect descriptor for his pale skin – turned when he heard her voice. His right eye was dotted with color, and down the side of his face was a nasty scratch, as if a large cat had dragged its talons across his skin. Alyssa wondered when he’d returned and why he was here at all since, avid hunter that he was, he’d taken time off as he usually did this time of year to head out to his cabin for a week of hunting. Unless she was misremembering, he wasn’t supposed to return for a few more days. Maybe he had tangled with a cat.

Tony grabbed one of the technicians with a camera and pointed to something Alyssa couldn’t see. Then, barely slowing his stride, he motioned for her and Cord to follow. ‘Grace is this way.’

In a seating area off the kitchen, Bernalillo County’s district attorney sat perched on the very edge of a cornflower-blue sofa, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her face pale save the red splotches on her cheeks and forehead. It was a far cry from the fierce, sophisticated attorney Alyssa held in such high regard.

‘She insisted on waiting for you.’ Though Tony didn’t whisper, his voice was lower.

Not wanting to startle the other woman, Alyssa, too, spoke quietly. ‘Grace?’

Almost as if she couldn’t process Alyssa’s greeting, Grace stared vacantly into the space between the detectives before recognition set in. Then, pressing the heels of her hands against her eye sockets, she rubbed. ‘I—I don’t—I can’t—I need—’ Grace’s voice was gravelly, edged with fear, sadness, and disbelief. Her head swayed back and forth as if she was still in denial of what had taken place in her brother’s home.

Referred to by some as ‘the ice queen’ because she never flinched or backed down as she went toe-to-toe with some of the worst, most evil predators the state had ever known, Grace was one of the toughest women Alyssa knew, and so it was more than a little jarring to see her sitting here broken and traumatized, her usually impeccable appearance now disheveled as she clearly tried to absorb the shock of what was happening around her.

Alyssa shifted until she was directly in Grace’s line of sight. ‘We’re going to do all we can, but I’m going to need you to focus so we can do that.’ Though she tempered her commanding tone in light of the district attorney’s state of mind, she knew they didn’t have time to wear kid gloves when the lives of two teenagers were on the line. ‘Now, start from the beginning, and walk us through how you ended up here.’

A tear trailed down Grace’s cheek. ‘I was having a glass of wine while I studied the case file for my upcoming trial when Addis called.’ She bent forward, releasing the necklace she’d been twisting in favor of pressing her hands down on her bouncing knees.

‘What time was that?’ Alyssa prodded.

‘Close to ten. Maybe a little after.’ Her phone was sitting on the sofa beside her, and she picked it up, tapping the screen a few times. ‘Ten-o-five. She didn’t answer right away when I said hello, and I thought maybe she’d accidentally dialed me.’ Eyes flickering toward the kitchen, her voice wobbled when she said, ‘But then I heard her whisper my name.’ Her gaze focused on something just past Alyssa’s shoulder as if she were envisioning the scene in her mind before she dropped her phone to the side so she could wind both arms around her waist. ‘And then she screamed… so loud… That’s when I heard her yell for Emerson to run.’

Grace’s dark, frightened eyes lifted. ‘There were a few grunts and what sounded like scuffling. And then… silence. The call ended.’ Her words sped up. ‘I called right back, but she didn’t pick up. I don’t know how many times I tried, but I finally gave up and tried Gabriel, and then Lydia’s phones. When I got no answer there either, I grew concerned and jumped in my car and drove straight over here. I didn’t think—’

Alyssa knew what Grace couldn’t say – she hadn’t thought she’d be walking into a slaughterhouse.

Blinking rapidly, Grace tried to stem the flow of tears that now ran in a steady stream. ‘The door was open when I arrived. That’s when I found Gabriel and Lydia. I thought—’ Squeezing her hands into fists, she pressed them against her sternum as she tried to get her breathing back under control. ‘I thought she, Addis, was—’ Grace’s head whipped violently back and forth. ‘I ran through the house to find her. I needed to find her.’

When her pained stare finally found its way back to Alyssa, she was no longer reliving what she’d stumbled upon. Speaking more clearly, she whispered, ‘I didn’t find them, but I found Addis’s phone in Ga—Gabriel’s office. And Emerson’s phone near the wet bar.’ Her face twisted in torment. ‘Oh God, Alyssa, please, you’ve got to find them; they’re only seventeen.’

Chapter Three

Thursday, October 3

Nearly thirty minutes after walking into the Kensington house, Alyssa had gotten as many details out of Grace as she could. ‘Can I call someone to drive you home or at least be with you?’ she asked now.

‘No, thanks. I prefer to stay here until you’re finished.’

Because the two were similar in so many ways, Alyssa understood Grace’s need to oversee what was happening. They were both strong women, used to protecting others, and it didn’t sit well when outside influences threatened their inner sanctuary of security. She also knew through personal experience how nearly impossible it was to release the reins of power to someone else, regardless of who that person was or how much she trusted her. Knowing and understanding that, however, changed nothing. ‘Grace, you know I can’t allow you to remain in my crime scene while it’s being processed.’

Grace opened her mouth to argue, but when her eyes strayed toward the kitchen where her brother and sister-in-law still lay, uncovered, she cast her anguish-fueled gaze in Alyssa’s direction. ‘Find who did this, Detective. And bring Addis and Emerson home,’ she choked out before allowing herself to be escorted out by an officer Alyssa didn’t immediately recognize.

With Grace’s final words ringing in her ears, she headed back to the kitchen where her eyes traveled along the wall before settling on a phone encased in pink rhinestones with decorative lettering down both sides – Emerson on the left, Childress on the right. Splatters of partially digested food smeared the screen. According to Grace, she’d been frantically searching for Addis when she’d heard what she thought sounded like a text message notification. Racing back to the kitchen, she’d spotted Emerson’s phone.

To Cord, Alyssa said, ‘It’s eight minutes after eleven right now. If Addis called Grace at five after ten, then the girls have been missing just over an hour.’ Alyssa’s stomach twisted itself into a knot. Even a minute in the hands of an obviously sadistic killer was too long for anyone, much less two teenage girls. She forced herself to stay focused, knowing she’d do no one any good if she allowed her mind to fixate on the vile kinds of things that could be happening even as she stood here.

She pointed at Tony who stood off to her left, waiting for her direction. ‘I need you to get Addis and Emerson entered into NCIC.’ The National Crime Information Center was a database that could be accessed by virtually every law enforcement agency nationwide, twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year. ‘When you’re finished, head over to the Childress residence and notify Emerson’s parents about what’s going on. I’d say if we’re super lucky, both girls will be there, safe and sound, but I know that’s only wishful thinking on my part.’

As soon as Tony hurried away to do as she’d asked, Alyssa pulled Cord off to the side, knowing what she was about to propose was risky. ‘I’m going to call Hammond to request two Amber Alerts be issued immediately.’

Unsurprisingly, Cord’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You’re not worried that might be a little premature? We don’t even have a description of what the girls are wearing or who may have taken them.’ He hesitated a fraction of a second before adding, ‘Or even if they’re actually missing – though all signs certainly point in that direction.’

Alyssa was undeterred. ‘I understand that, but we can’t chance waiting or wasting another second because if we wait and something happens… Needless to say, I’d rather risk my own image – and the department’s – than gamble against the lives of two girls.’ She looked pointedly in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Especially in light of that grisly crime scene.’ Furthermore, she knew their captain, Guthrie Hammond, would back her decision since he’d always regretted hesitating when it had been her own son who’d gone missing six months ago, especially after discovering he’d been kidnapped by a serial killer with a personal vendetta.

Cord glanced at the carnage then back at her. From the look in his eye, Alyssa knew he, too, was remembering Isaac’s ordeal. ‘On the mantel in the living room, I noticed a photograph of the two girls impersonating Charlie’s Angels that looks recent. We can use that to base the description. If there’s fallout, we’ll field it together.’

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